


The Heart of the Siege

by Kamouraskan



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 04:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12927786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamouraskan/pseuds/Kamouraskan
Summary: Xena is in an escape proof prison waiting to be executed or worse Gabrielle is working with the men who are besieging the city that holds her. Will Xena trust Gabrielle to rescue her before both sides are crushed by a third army? Will Gabrielle forgive her if she doesn't?





	1. Chapter 1

The characters of Xena, Gabrielle and Autolycus are owned by Renpics apparently, and not only that, I’m not going to make any money from this! Is that justice I ask you?

 **Timeline:** Around the second season

 **Sex** : Just two people in love with each other, who are also women. If that’s a problem according to age or locale, move, or move on.

Thanks to: BlindzonElyzon, Cath, Leslie Ann Miller, Mary Morgan, MyWarrior, Nancy, Power Chakram, Stacia, Temora and all the members of the Tavern Wall and the Bardic Circle. Two places I can still be proud to call home.

Inspired by the far better writings of Melissa Good, DJWP, and by the woman I love.

  


**In the Heart** **of the Siege**

**by Kamouraskan**

_For a hundred generations the news of the outside world was primarily carried from town to town by the Bards, the jongleurs, the shapers and the troubadours. Their songs usually reflected the interests of the common person. They were often about outlaws or what we would consider tabloid stories; incest, infanticide and other forms of murder. Of course Love has always been a common subject, and there is a whole variety known as song riddles consisting of impossible tasks which can only be solved by a true lover._

_Like all myths, even when cloaked in magic or corrupted by time, they represent a kernel of actual historical fact and pertinent observations on human character._

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_ **

_Are you going to Scarborough Fair?_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,_

_Remember me to one who lives there,_

_For once she was a true love of mine._

**_-Scarborough Fair_ **

**Day 38 of the Siege of Namea: Morning**

The General motioned to the guardsmen at the door. “Let her in.” There was a sideways glance to his lieutenant. “This should be amusing.”

The tent flap was opened and a young girl was brought in. She was dressed in fairly revealing clothes, and seemed to be in her teens. Although her long reddish blonde hair was tousled and tangled, she appeared fairly clean, at least compared to the camp followers most of his soldiers were used to. Somehow she’d managed to protect whatever there was of her virtue in the two days that she’d been in the camp petitioning for an audience with him. Mainly due to her skill with the Amazon staff she now had firmly in hand. That and her claim to be the bard that accompanied Xena had led to this meeting. As she was brought forward, he saw her face was set and free of fear; something else which intrigued him. General Rukcal leaned back in his chair.

“You wished to speak with me?”

The only sign of any nervousness was a deep breath before she spoke. “I am the Bard for the Warrior Princess.”

“So you’ve claimed.”

“You can ask your cook, Palacius. He can vouch that I’ve traveled with her for the past two years.”

Rukcal shrugged as though the confirmation were unimportant. “Say that is true. Why would you interest me?”

“I can solve your problem.”

The warlord smiled. “And what problem is that? I have over one thousand well fed and heavily armed men, waiting about for a small garrison of starving wretches to eventually surrender.”

This response was obviously expected, and her reply was recited in a clear voice for all in the tent. “Because what was supposed to be a short siege of this city has been stalled by the capture of the Warrior Princess. Because it was a morale booster for a countryside she once devastated with her own army and because you are running out of time. Because you now have to wonder if she might even join the forces who are resisting you. Because Xena is in that city and you don’t know what she will do.”

The general mockingly applauded her performance. “Well spoken. But what do you propose to do to solve this problem?”

“The siege has made it impossible for me to enter the city by myself. But I believe with just few of your men, I can get to her.”

Ruckal snorted derisively. “And why would I want to help rescue Xena?”

Gabrielle’s face was grim. “My plan doesn’t involve rescuing her. I plan on killing her.”

 

_1)‘Peace Good Judge, sweet Lord Judge_

_Peace for just a while_

_I think I see my mother coming_

_Riding by the stile_

_A little of your gold, ma mere_

_And likewise of your fee_

_To save my body from yonder grave_

_and my neck from the hangman’s tree’_

_“None of my gold now shall you have_

_Nor likewise of my fee_

_For I am come to see you hanging_

_And hanged you shall be”_

**_-A Maid Saved From Hanging_ **

 

**Day 38: Noon**

Polybus, the King of Corinth sank deeper into the bath. ‘ _Not quite hot enough,’_ he thought and he motioned to a slave to fetch more water. The attendants froze for a moment as they heard the approach of a messenger outside the baths, and they looked to the king to see if permission to enter would be granted. The was a negligent wave of a hand, and when the door was opened, a young soldier entered. He removed his helmet, bowed and waited for the King to speak first.

“If this has to do with the Warrior Princess and her friends, report to my partner. It was her idea.”

He watched in amusement as the young guardsman attempted to keep his eyes downcast as his wife, Ismene, drew herself part way out of the mist and water. Originally only a marriage of convenience designed to provide him with an heir, she had soon involved herself in all aspects of ruling the City State. But in this latest plan, she had clearly erred.

Ignoring her nudity and her husband, she demanded “What news have you?”

“My lady.” There was a glance to both rulers to ascertain if the address was correct. “Agathes does not intend to execute the Warrior Princess. They have announced that they have some sort of poison that destroys the mind while the body lives. It is felt that this would be a more appropriate revenge upon the Destroyer of Nations.”

There was a shudder from his Consort, and Polybus spoke quickly. “This is none of your fault, my dear. The fool woman believed she could ride into a town that her army had devastated, without any repercussions. She was the one who believed the word of that slippery leader of the mine owners. She thought they would actually want her help in peace negotiations.” He shook his head ruefully. “She rode in there thinking that they would see her as some kind of hero, and not the butcher of their husbands and sons. Hardly your fault.” He redirected his attention to the messenger. “When will this... whatever, take place?”

“Your majesty... ties,” the messenger hesitantly added. “Agathes intends to delay it as long as possible, to extend the morale boost her capture seems to have given his garrison. Perhaps four days. It is said that he believes he can convince her to fight with him.”

At this the king laughed. “And meanwhile Rukcal is expected to wait patiently outside the gates? I don’t think so.” He turned to his wife. “You certainly are going to owe me that bet, Dear. Not only didn’t she succeed, but she seems to have extended the suffering of those inside the cordon.”

Ismene ignored the jibe. “The other, is he still...” she extended hopefully.

“Still imprisoned by General Rukcal. He is to be executed as a spy tomorrow... Ma’am.” This drew another chuckle from the King. “Admit it, dear. It appears that some of our Corinthian blood must needs be shed in order to solve this annoyance. It has gone on far too long, and we have been far too patient. Prices have begun to escalate already, thanks to the shortage of silver from the mine for coins. The generals have made it known that it will take four days to assemble the men necessary to march on Namea, break through that Rukcal’s cordon and then take Agathes’ city and the mine. We will begin to organize tonight.”

“There is still Gabrielle,” his wife noted.

The King snorted. “The story teller? Now you are grasping at straws, my love. The dinars of the bet are mine, you must admit it.”

His wife smiled. “Xena seemed to feel that she was worthy of respect. She certainly didn’t take kindly to your assumption that the bard was a body slave. And as long as she is free, there are cards in play.”

The King gestured to the waiting slaves and the heated water was poured next to where he lazed. “A wild card. Just because Xena doesn’t seem to show the proper appreciation for a good body slave...” and at this he caressed the arm of the girl pouring, “ ...is hardly a recommendation.”

“Nonetheless, “ Ismene demurred, “Xena seemed to have confidence in her.”

“Fine. Fine. You need not pay me now. But I will order the army readied. If nothing else, word of the mustering will be carried to both those fools and we’ll see if it raises the stakes of their little game.” Another languorous gesture, and the messenger was dismissed.

There was silence for a moment as both enjoyed the addition of more hot water. The Queen mused. “Do you think that they...?”

“They what?”

“They may not have physical love, but...”

“Xena and the little storyteller? No!”

“There seemed to be some sort of....”

Impatiently, the King interrupted. “What would either see in each other? No. Xena has a bard, and the girl, a protector. Perhaps there is some odd sort of hero worship. But nothing that would interest an animal like Xena. No matter how much she might have reformed.”

A smile played about the Queen’s face. “Would you be willing to bet on that?”

This drew another laugh. “Always.”

“How will we substantiate their relationship?”

“It must come from the lips of one of them. If neither survive, the bet is off.”

“Agreed...” and both rulers closed their eyes and luxuriated in the warmth.

 

_‘All men all false’ says my mother_

_‘They’ll tell you wicked loving lies_

_They’re like the stars on a summers morning_

_They’ll first appear, and then they’re gone’_

**_-Come all ye Fair and Tender Maidens_ **

 

**Day 38: Sunset**

Agathes hated the mine. Even with his attendants and the torches they carried, he had to fight off the shiver that the cold walls and normally perpetual darkness created. He knew nothing of the expertise that its construction had required, or even the composition of rock the silver vein was chiseled from.. He only knew that this place was impenetrable, and made the perfect cell for his prisoner.

His prisoner. His plan.

He had seized the opening for power when the old men of the council had panicked with Rukcal at the gates. It was his plan that had brought the warrior here. His word that had drawn her in. His oath that had been given to her and broken.

But none of that would matter if he could break her.

_The warrior had ridden in proudly, and watched without any signs of anxiety as the gates were closed. Then she had been surrounded by the miners and townspeople. Agathes had chosen the angriest and the weakest from his supporters, and as he had assumed, she refused to fight the starved wretches as they shouted the names of their dead, her victims. She hadn’t even defended herself. The great warrior had seemed paralyzed; it had been that easy._

Upon reaching the gate to the cell, he first inspected the bars drilled a full cubit into the solid rock, and then grasped the metal pole leaning next to the door. In the flickering light he could see her chained to the wall, but he took the long pole and struck the fetters that secured her wrists and ankles to ensure they had not been tampered with. Though it must have hurt the chafed skin, there was no sound from the warrior. There had been no words from her at all since she had grasped his deception. Not a word since she had been taken prisoner.

He motioned for a torch to be brought closer, and he confirmed that her hands were still bound by the mail gloves they had fashioned for her. Once the inspection was complete, he began to undo the locks on the door. He could see the pale eyes following his actions, but there was no expression on the handsome face.

“We’ve brought you some company, “ Agathes said as they pushed a figure forward. “Not so much company, and an object lesson. This is Menon.”

A stocky figure in rags was thrust forward, and after a spasmodic twist, fell to the floor of the cell, and the door was immediately relocked.

“He has no sense of balance at all. Coordination’s all gone.” The figure on the ground turned its face to Xena and in the torchlight she saw the dull eyes begin to gleam as they gawked at her body stretched out against the wall. She returned her stare to Agathes, ignoring the wretch even as he began to crawl along the floor towards her.

“See, Menon figured that since the fumes of the smelter made people get a little drunk, that drinking it would have quite the punch. And he was right. He mixed it with some pure alcohol...and... “ The politician gestured to the floor. “We hoped at first that part of his mind was trapped in there.” Xena’s muscles tightened as the first grimy hand grasped her ankle. ”But if there’s anything left, it’s buried, watching the animal he is now.” Another hand grazed her thigh and Agathes saw the lips compress, but there was no other reaction. Frustrated he slammed his fist into the bars.

“Dammit Xena. We will do this to you. We will drag you into the town square and force it down your throat. AND LEAVE YOU LIKE THIS,” he shouted.

There was a slobbering giggle from the creature at her feet.

“Look at him, Xena. He’s an animal, with an animal’s need. He’s functional, but with no coordination, he’s not very effective.” The soldiers behind him snorted. Agathes’ voice became harsher. “But that wouldn’t matter with a woman would it? I doubt we’d have much time to play with you before Rukcal smashes his way in here, but we could leave you for him. Drooling, naked, maybe with a ribbon tied around you?” His voice rose. “Do you want that? Just give me your word of honour. Just swear that you’ll fight with us and defeat him, if I release you. That’s all it will take.

“Look around you Xena. You are forty feet underground. With only one entrance which opens onto a square guarded by a dozen men, surrounded by the best archers money could buy. This jail was created for you. There is no possibility of escape or rescue. Unless you agree to help us.

“You came here to negotiate a peace. This will accomplish that. King Polybus must be sending troops from Corinth and with your help we can delay for the time we need.” Now there was a quiet seductive tone. “I broke my word for these people, Xena. Please help us. I have gambled everything to save my people. Please.” There was no word from the warrior, but he could see that she had averted her face as the wretch began to pull himself up her body.

“My people demand that you die for the crimes you committed here. They nearly stoned a bard who tried to tell stories of you as a hero...” For a second Agathes thought he had imagined it, but there had been something... He continued watching her face. There seemed to be only the slightest movement from the prisoner, but Menon was suddenly flung across the room, smashing against the wall, landing unconscious. Agathes smiled and continued as though nothing had happened. “Yes, this bard was smart though, and switched to ballads of Hercules and Perseus....” No response now, but he knew he had seen a shift in that stone face for the briefest moment. “Everyone has money, and nothing to buy. So by the end of the evening she had a fortune in useless dinars. Perhaps she’ll use them to bribe her way out of this mess.” Yes, there was a subtle relaxation in the warrior’s stance.

He stepped back from the bars. “I know that you have reason not to believe me, Xena, but I am in my way an honorable man. I only want to save lives. I had hoped that was your concern as well.”

He nodded to his guards and they marched off; towering above his small frame. Two in front, one in back. When they came out into the waning daylight, they returned to their station guarding the entrance and he signaled the soldiers to close the mine again. He turned to his aids and ordered. “Find that Bard. I don’t care where she is. Even if she’s in the heart of Rukcal’s camp, I want her. I think I would like to see how Xena would react if it was that girl that we held down and forced the cup to her lips.”

“And if Xena still holds out?” His assistant asked.

“Then Menon will have a playmate and Xena can watch them rut in front of her eyes.”

 

_1)There was a young Captain who sailed the salt sea_

**_Let the winds blow high and blow low_ **

_‘I will die I will die’ the young Captain did cry_

_‘If I don’t have that maid on the shore, shore shore_

_If I don’t have that maid on the shore’._

_They replaced her away in his cabin below_

**_Let the wind blow high and blow low_ **

_She’s so pretty and neat_

_She’s so sweet and complete_

_She sung Captain and sailors to sleep, sleep sleep_

_She sung Captain and sailors to sleep_

**_Maiden Alone on the Shore_ **

**Day 38: Moonrise**

Gabrielle stared out across the plains towards the walls of the city. ‘ _To where my heart lies._ ’ she thought. ‘ _My heart?’_ What would Xena think if she heard that? Probably smile condescendingly and pat her on the head. The bard’s face tightened. ‘ _Not this time Xena. This time you’ll have to see who I’ve become._ ’

The wind whined about her and she pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Only desolation between her and Xena. The land had had been cleared , the crops and the fields burned. The great siege engines and catapults were all that stood on the barren no-mans-land. All cattle and farm animals confiscated and penned in the same corral as the prisoners she was about to interview for the suicide mission she was supposed to lead.

Can I do this Xena? I can’t...’

_You can convince people of anything, Gabrielle._

“A lover’s spat?” General Rukcal had asked smirking. She had cast her eyes down to the floor, hoping he would draw his own conclusions. Revenge he might understand better than the truth.

She had spoken softly but with conviction. “No. I do this for the Greater Good. That city was built to resist attack. You could lose up 500 men in the assault and all in the city could die. Men... women... children. The only reason they’re still resisting after over a moon of starvation rations is because of the capture of Xena. They’re waiting for her execution, and Agathes is delaying that for as long as he can.” She had raised her eyes to look directly at the General at that point. “But your time has run out. You need to be inside that fortress before King Polybus and the Corinthian army arrive. To be caught out here would mean hundreds more deaths and your defeat. But if Xena was to die tomorrow, none of that would happen, would it? What is the death of one woman compared to that slaughter?”

“Then why you?”

“Because I have contacts with people inside. I know Xena. She trusts me. And I have a plan.”

And your plan is?” He had asked skeptically.

So the hook had been nibbled on. And she had played him well. Showing him all the advantages, but not selling them. Letting him see them at his own speed. Letting some resentment against Xena show, and appear to be the behavior of a jealous lover. Still impressing him with the overall intelligence of the plan. Watching his mind find the advantages for him while discounting her own intellect. And now she stood above the pens for the prisoners.

 _‘What would you tell me to do right now, Xena?_ ‘ she asked herself, and answered _‘Go home? Take my bags of dinars and go home? I can’t, Xena. I have to do this. I can’t leave you there. It’s like a force inside me is drawing me to you and I can’t, I won’t fight it. Whatever I have to do, I’ll do. Now tell me, give me your advice because I’ve never needed it more._

She closed her eyes and listened to her memories.

_‘Planning requires flexibility, Gabrielle. Plenty of time to react and a mind that is capable of adapting to the changed conditions’._

_Can I do that, Xena? Please, let me have thought this out carefully_. Gabrielle felt her heart being squeezed at the thought of those blue eyes devoid of spark or intelligence. She stood back as the general obsequiously addressed the condemned men below.

“Gentlemen. I have an announcement you may be interested in. This young lady has asked for your assistance, and I have decided to grant it.”

_If I had known before I courted,_

_That love was such a killing thing,_

_I'd a-locked my heart in a chest of iron,_

_And tied it down so it couldn't take wing._

 

_But no, I'm not a little sparrow,_

_I have no wings with which to fly_

_So I sit here in grief and sorrow,_

_Just moanin' away while time goes by_

**_-Come All Ye Fair and Tender Maidens_ ** _._

**Day 38: Midnight**

_Xena was struggling in a miasmic confusion, sluggishly conscious of death all around her. She opened her eyes to find herself lying amongst a heap of bodies, with hundreds more spread as far as her vision would reach. She turned her head and found herself staring upon Gabrielle, and for one terrifying moment believed that her bard was dead as well. It was only when she was able to find a feeble heartbeat that she looked up to see Hades standing above her, and she realised that she was the one who was not alive._

_There was no show of emotion in her voice or face as she began to stand, saying, “I’m ready.” but as she stood, one of Gabrielle’s hands rose with her, clutching at her bracer._

_Hades laughed. “No, you’re not.”_

_Xena protested. “She won’t let me go.”_

_Again the King of the Underworld laughed. “Really?”_

_Even as Hades spoke, Xena became aware that her hands were just as entangled about the bard, and gripping her just as tenaciously._

 

Xena awoke in the darkness.

A dream. Didn’t mean anything.

It was the lack of anything to do that was getting to her. She did a cursory check of her condition. The concussion was mainly gone and her mind was clear. Muscles stiff and sore, but that was a given in her business.

Xena focused again on the opposite end of her cell. Measuring the space that wasn’t hers to use. Five steps. Two strides. One flip. She shook the chains again in frustration, forgetting for a moment the chafing. Focus. Think of the anger. Frustration. The betrayal. Anything other than the Bard.

Think of being sentenced to the nightmare of a mindless existence. Think of her present situation. Dying of thirst, chained and humiliated.

And yet?

All it took was a moment of closed eyes, and she saw that face, felt her warmth as though she was in the room. _‘This is insane’_ she told herself. ‘W _hen did this happen?’_ When did the little girl become necessary to her? Where did this yearning, this ache begin? All for a girl she had never even kissed. Not really. But then she was back in the dreamscape, feeling those lips so softly yielding under her own. Realizing that she was unconsciously pursing her mouth, she shook her head furiously. ‘ _NO! It’s something that they are feeding you. Some kind of drug. To break you. You’ve had a hundred lovers, you can’t become a teenager with a crush after all this time. Not now. Not when....’_

 _‘She’ll move on. You want her to. She has her family and the Amazons_.’ But then there was pain. Even imagining the loss induced an ache so fierce and sudden that she was only able to suppress it with the focus of her will. _‘It’s what’s best. You know that.’_

It was with gratitude that she heard the approach of the bodyguards and the familiar footsteps. Made by those fine expensive boots. “ _Hasn’t had to eat them yet, I suppose.”_ The thought of the deprivations the siege had created brought a twisted smile to her parched lips. What little water there was, was not wasted on a prisoner, even this one. “ _Poor Agathes_. _We’re all prisoners, I just have a smaller cell.”_ Her smile grew larger.

In the flickering torchlight his bright silken raiment contrasted with the dull grays and browns of the squalid cell. It was with a sinking heart that she saw the smile on his face.

He held out a single piece of parchment and brought a torch to it. Even at this distance Xena recognized the familiar handwriting.

“That bard I told you of, seems to be still around. She’s been asking around for the details of your confinement. Of course I’ve written back to arrange a meeting. I can hardly wait.”


	2. Chapter 2

The characters of Xena, Gabrielle and Autolycus are owned by Renpics apparently, and not only that, I’m not going to make any money from this! Is that justice I ask you?

**Timeline:** Around the second season

**Sex** : Just two people in love with each other, who are also women. If that’s a problem according to age or locale, move, or move on.

Inspired by the far better writings of Melissa Good, DJWP, and by the woman I love.

 

Characters:

Agathes: Head of the council of the besieged mining city of Namea, who tricked Xena and now holds her in an escape proof prison underground. He waits to trap Gabrielle in order to force Xena to lead the cities armies and mercenaries.

Rukcal: Leader of the forces surrounding Namea, who has ‘hired’ Gabrielle to break the stalemate

Polybus: Ruler of Corinth, who along with his wife, encouraged Xena, Gabrielle and a certain friend, to attempt to negotiate a peace. Now that they have failed, he now plans to wait for the right moment and sweep both opposition forces and claim the silver rich mine and city for himself.

**In the Heart of the Siege**

**by Kamouraskan**

**Part II**

**Go to Part I**

_As Turpin was riding across the moor_

_He saw a lawyer riding on before_

_Riding up to him said, “are ye not afraid_

_To meet Dick Turpin, that mischievous blade”_

_Says Turpin to the lawyer for to be cute:_

_“I hid my money into my boot”_

_says the lawyer to Turpin “He can’t find mine_

_For I hid in the cape of my coat behind_

_Turpin robbed the lawyer of all his store_

_He told him to go home and he would get more_

_“And the very first town you do come in_

_You can tell them you was robbed by Dick Turpin”_

 

**Day 39: Past Midnight**

Gabrielle spared a glance towards the moonless skies, while in front of her Rukcal stood facing the wind and continued to address the men in the pens below. She could not tell what were animals and which were men, and her nose crinkled as the scent of feces was carried up to them.

“Each of you has committed crimes that have led you here, and your death in the morning is your punishment. But I can offer three of you the opportunity to clear your name, and remove the stain you have attached to your family. Should you by some chance succeed and survive this mission, you will be allowed to leave this territory alive and as free men. So Death? Or honour? Are any if you interested?

A sleepy voice called from the back, “But is the pay any good?”

Rukcal frowned and looked over to Gabrielle, “That would be the spy, of course.” He called over to the guards and ordered, “Pull out his tongue.”

Gabrielle shyly touched the General’s shoulder. “Please...Wait. A spy?”

The General closed his eyes, clearly regretting the chance to remove this particular tongue, and motioned to the jailer to bring the prisoner forward. He was a tall lean figure who somehow seemed to saunter even as he was hauled forward.

“A spy in the pay of King Polybus,” Rukcal said by way of an introduction.

The man demurred with a slight smirk. “Not a spy. A thief. The King of Thieves, in fact. At your service, my lady.”

Despite her anxiety, Gabrielle found a smile on her lips. She wiped it away and responded imperiously, “That remains to be seen.” She glanced up at the burly general. “What was his crime?”

“He was caught attempting to see the plans mapping the distribution of my forces.”

Gabrielle frowned. “He can’t be very good if he was caught.” She tapped her tongue. “ Oh, go ahead.”

Before the guards could take him, the thief managed to say, “Actually they were expecting me. A bit unfair, I thought.”

The General grumbled, “Of course we knew. We have spies, Polybus has spies, Agathes has spies.”

The Thief waved his palm in frustration. ”You can see why I insist on the honourable profession of a thief. Spies are so common.”

“He’s tall enough for the part. Perhaps... Let me talk to him.” Gabrielle took the General’s silence as acquiescence and grabbed Autolycus’ arm and began to pull him down the hill. With the leg irons there was some stumbling before they were out of earshot.

In a low and heated voice Autolycus demanded, “Gabrielle? Tell me that Xena being captured is part of her plan?”

Gabrielle looked down. “Actually...”

The thief shoulders slumped. “Then you’re in charge? This is going to be one of your ‘Xena” plans? Please. Put me back in the pen, it’s safer.”

Her face chilled before his eyes. “Fine. If that’s your choice.” She called up the hill, “Guards!”

Autolycus blanched in surprise. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “Is it my imagination, or do you seem to have lost your sense of humour? You wouldn’t really send me back, would you?”

The voice that answered him was cool and measured. “Autolycus. Everyone else is playing a game and we’re supposed to be pawns. I’m not playing a game anymore, do you understand?”

There was an uncertain nod and as he was gauging the girl, Rukcal came down to speak to them.

“So is this wretch going to go with you?”

Gabrielle nodded. “I’m going to give him some of the details of...your… plan. And we’ll see if he knows which prisoners can help.”

 

_2)‘Peace Good Judge, sweet Lord Judge_

_Peace for just a while_

_I think I see my father coming_

_Riding by the stile_

_A little of your gold, Papa_

_And likewise of your fee_

_To save my body from yonder grave_

_and my neck from the hangman’s tree’_

_“None of my gold now shall you have_

_Nor likewise of my fee_

_For I am come to see you hanging_

_And hanged you shall be”_

**_-A Maid Saved From Hanging_ **

**Day 39: Noon**

“Men. I want you to imagine you are soaring above this piece of earth as though you were Hermes. This,” and the long dowel in the hands of King Polybus touched the model of the city in the basin of the miniature valley, “is the city of Namea. The walls as you can see are extremely wide, and there are others surrounding the interior courtyard at the main gate. There are towers with upper and lower lookouts most of which are manned by skilled archers. They guard every side entrance and all approaches to the city.

“Within its walls is a certain silver mine, and its miners. Who have over the years raised their price and the walls of their city to create one of the most heavily garrisoned places on the earth. They have been in a state of siege for over thirty-eight days now and they are, of course, starving. They have all the money in the world, but no food, and little fresh water. There are over one thousand men, women, and children but only few hundred effective fighters penned in by...” The pointer began to circumscribe a large circle around the model city. “...mercenaries led by a General Rukcal, formerly of the Athenian guards.

“His men have razed all homes outside the walls of the city, torched the fields and seized all of the livestock. His deployment of almost one thousand soldiers in this area we know with some, but not enough, accuracy. We can be assured that they have dug in and are well prepared to withstand any halfhearted attack on the outer ring. More bad news as you can see, they also have the high ground. We will be sending scouts ahead to try to ascertain the positioning of the main encampments within the cordon. Simply breaking through the circle would find us caught in this...” the pointer indicated the area in the bowl “...desert they have created. We cannot expect support from the city, and we would be surrounded, trapped and fired upon from three sides. The situation is clear. We will be forced to attack Rukcal from the outside, draw all of his forces into the fight, and completely crush his group in order to free the city.”

If the thought of the slaughter that this might entail worried the generals, they gave no sign of it.

“I would like to avoid destroying the animal pens here and here, and the tossing of too many bodies into the river, which will be the supply of food and drink for our own men as well as the survivors.”

The rest of the exposition dwelt on other trivialities. It was short work to make the assignments, and a few sealed orders were handed out discreetly. As soon as they had left, Ismene rose from the cushions she had been observing from and amusedly pointed to the complex miniature at their feet. “I sometimes wonder if you make these models to make better war, or you make war in order to have better models.”

Polybus chuckled and took his wife’s hand and kissed it gently. He raised his head to find her solemn gaze upon him. “Do you think they believe that you truly intend to attack Rukcal in this manner?” she asked.

“What matters is if the spies among them believe it.” Polybus smiled.

She laughed, and passed him some of the cherries she had been enjoying throughout the strategy session. “Spies in the pay of the merchants, or the opposition?”

Polybus sighed. “Our damned merchants are almost as bad as the opposing armies. If they hadn’t been so afraid to allow us to leave this city without a full guard all this year, you know I could have eliminated Rukcal before he became strong enough in the countryside to attempt this play. Or I could have marched into Namea and demanded they cut their ridiculous prices in half long ago. No, I almost have to thank Rukcal. It took this game of his to get our citizen’s support for this little foray.”

“Are you certain the army can actually be in place in under three days and not four?”

“It’s one of the few things I am certain of. But the timing must be exact. As long as there is a hope of Agathes surrender, Rukcal will delay his push until just before he believes we will arrive. He should attack on that third day, in the hope of being safely sheltered in the fortress on the fourth. With the information the scouts bring us, we should be on site after his army has begun their assault on the walls. Rukcal will be out of position, with no defense to our army at his back. With the help of the Gods we will time the attack after both sides have lost half of their men, and we will take both his army and the city by the days end. Then we shall...” he grinned, “negotiate... a new price for silver with the grateful survivors, and return to the thanks of our citizens and those damned merchants.”

“So tidy. And yet you were willing to welcome Xena, Gabrielle and their friend and give them the chance to make peace despite the advantages of this plan. Your patience is admirable, my Liege. But why would Rukcal and Agathes not have anticipated this?” Ismene asked.

“You know I believe that peace should always be attempted. I am not a crude wolf like Rukcal or Agathes,” Polybus said as he towered over the facsimile. “They aren’t capable of seeing the big picture.” As he spoke, a small piece of fruit fell from his hand, and struck the walls of the city, peculiarly shocking them both as it burst, then slid down the sides leaving a glistening trail behind it. It terminated its descent in ragged pieces and rested, the skin a gleaming crimson against the pale sand.

Carefully Polybus used his pointer to press it into the ground, and then fastidiously brushed the sand to cover it over.

 

_Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_And gather it all in a bunch of heather_

_And then she'll be a true love of mine_

**_-Scarborough Fair_ **

**Day 39: Moonrise**

Ikaros tugged restlessly at the ill-fitting armour he’d been given. Being plucked from the condemned pens in the midst of making peace with his Gods before a certain death at sunrise had left him in a state of shock bordering on traumatic. The compact runner had tried, but still couldn’t bring himself to eat the food that he had been given, and he attempted to divert his fear by taking in his surroundings. Around him, officers were pacing about readying for Rukcal’s nightly feint on the gates of the city.

The other prisoner selected by Autolycus was a brawny giant named Salmakis, whose total absorption with the food they had been given added to the nausea Ikaros was feeling. Across from them, Autolycus and the young girl, Gabrielle, were talking in muted voices, ignoring the commotion around them. In frustration, Ikaros interrupted them.

“Do you think any of these guys really believes that this is the real assault?” he asked no one in particular. “I mean, who’s going to be fooled? They do this every night!” Salmakis shrugged and continued to chew on the first meal he’d had in days. Ikaros persisted nonetheless. “What’s the point?”

Gabrielle decided to answer. “Because one night it will be for real.”

“But everybody knows that. What’s going to change?”

The girl seemed to be reciting. “Any advantage, no matter how small, is an advantage.” She looked around towards the fires and machines of war being readied. “On the night the real assault takes place, there might be one sentry who delays passing the word, one soldier who takes a minute longer to get out of his bunk. It could make the difference in a battle.”

_‘Gods. Not more wisdom from the mighty Xena_?’ thought Ikaros, but kept his mouth shut. Instead he temporized. “I guess it’s lucky that we have it as a cover. Why aren’t you coming in with us?”

“I have my own invitation. Someone is waiting for me by another route. It’ll only work if we meet inside. Once you’re in position, Autolycus will explain the next steps.” Worriedly, Gabrielle looked over to Autolycus and muttered to him, “You’re sure he can run fast enough to do it?”

The thief smirked. “From what I was told, it took two men on horseback to nab Ikaros when he was trying to desert during the first attempt on the city.”

Gabrielle blinked. “Desert?” Her voice rose. “He deserted... during an assault? Auto, PLEASE don’t tell me you chose a deserter as the lead man!”

Autolycus casually brushed some imaginary flecks from the corner of his mouth and moustache. “Gabrielle. It was a group of condemned prisoners. You know I really wanted to pick men who were under a sentence of death for wearing the wrong colour leggings after Harvest time, but they were all out.”

Gabrielle closed her eyes for a moment and began to massage her temples. “Okay, I can handle this.” She shook her shoulders and advanced towards the giant, who, even though he was seated cross legged, was still at the same height as she was. “Do I want to know why he was in the pens?” she asked, pointing. Salmakis looked to Autolycus with a wry expression, which further incensed the Bard. Using that anger, she tried her best authoritative voice. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, not him. I’m in command here. What was your crime?”

Salmakis put down the pig’s haunch he had been chewing and said without any inflection, “I killed my commanding officer.”

Again the Bard’s eyes closed, but she didn’t back down, each of the men noted. When she opened them again, there was almost a smile on her face. “Okay. Maybe we could start again?” She thrust out a hand to the small runner. “I’m Gabrielle. You’re.. Ikaros? Ikaros, do you have a family?”

There was a quick nervous nod.

“Children?”

“One, a boy.”

“So if you had died a deserter...?”

“They would have been abandoned by my village.”

“So you’re willing to do this for them.” Gabrielle stated firmly.

“Yes.”

“Salmakis?”

The giant nodded slowly.

“I don’t want anyone to die on this mission, but I also don’t want anyone to take any unnecessary risks. If we work together we can all get through this alive. Can you do your part?”

He nodded.

“Can we shake on that?” and she put out her hand. Stifling a chuckle, Salmakis accepted the gesture, and she reached out and also grabbed the smaller man’s hand with her free one, who held it back and asked, “This nobody dying thing. Does that include Xena?”

As Gabrielle hesitated, the Giant spoke, “Kid? If you wan’us to work with you, we gotta know what’s what.”

Autolycus noted the same shuttered look in the girl’s eyes as before. “If killing Xena means that all this bloodshed can be averted,” she told them,” then I know what I have to do. But I also know that she’s gotten out of tougher spots than this. If ... when, we get to her, I know she can come up with a plan.”

Ikaros snorted nervously. “She can figure out how to get these greedhead miners to surrender? Or get General Rukcal to call off an attack that has a thousand men dreaming of wearing silver plated shoes? And then there’s the whole Corinthian army that’s gonna show up soon and who’ll wanta crush the lot of them. We’re talking miracle worker now. “

“She’s done harder stuff before,” she insisted. “ I tell you, that if we can get to Xena, all this will be straightened out.” She looked at the two skeptical faces.

“Maybe I should tell you about some of the times she did that? Came up with a solution when it seemed like no one could?”

Without waiting for an answer, she pulled a stump from the firewood and sat down and raised her hands dramatically. “Have you heard of the Lost Mariner? Of Poseidon who cursed him in his anger over the loss of the wager to Athena, and of the Warrior Princess who saved one, and defeated the other without raising her sword?” The sounds of the preparing army were soon unnoticed by Ikaros as the bard drew them into her tale.

_“He spake, and round about him called the clouds and roused the ocean, wielding in his hand, the trident! He summoned the hurricanes... all of the winds, and covered earth and sky with mists. While from above, the night fell suddenly....”_

When she was finished to their appreciative applause and not a few blushes, Autolycus produced a flask of some evil mixture that soon had them laughing and exchanging stories. Ikaros at first ignored the strange looks they were getting from the soldiers readying about them. The sight of three men and a young girl laughing as a battle was prepared, clearly attracted attention, and Ikaros cringed automatically as one burly hoplite came over to demand: “Who the hell are you and what unit do you belong to? And what’s that kid doin’ here?”

To Ikaros’ surprise, he found himself almost to his feet in her defense when Autolycus beat him to it and responded, “She’s the brains.”

“Of what?”

The thief pulled the man aside and spoke confidentially. “This is the Elite Missions Force, fella. Black Ops. For your own health, I don’t think you want to ask any more questions. Just be thankful we’re here to do your dirty work when the real fighting starts.”

The soldier stared at the motley group. Ikaros tried to look tough and inscrutable, and he felt his chest swell slightly. Salmakis growled, and the girl stared him down with a look that froze his heart. The soldier backed away muttering, “Okay... I was just...” before he vanished into the hubbub.

There was a nervous laugh from all four. “Black Ops?” Gabrielle sputtered. “What in Tartarus does that mean?”

Autolycus grinned. “It sounded good though, didn’t it?”

At that moment they all heard the trumpeting from the command area, and the fields around them suddenly subsided into the silence of anticipation.

The thief suddenly recalled that something had been missed from the plan, so he asked, “Gabrielle? When we meet up with Xena, she’s going to want a few weapons, you know. You didn’t put any time in the schedule for me to get them.”

Gabrielle didn’t say anything, but stood up and went to a bag under her bedroll. With a reverence Ikaros might have felt was almost comic, she withdrew a sword and a metal ring, and even from his place by the fire he could feel the menace of the bejeweled weapons.

She looked up to see the thief looking at her with open admiration. She grinned. “They weren’t locked up very well...” Then the smile was lost. “I won’t be able to take them back in with me, so I guess you’re nominated.” She seemed not to want to hand them over, but as she did, even the usually talkative Auto was silent for a moment.

“You know I’ll take care of them like...”

“I know.”

Salmakis grunted. “So, this Xena. She’s really that good?”

“No,” Auto looked up and smirked. “She’s really that bad.”

There was a cough from behind them, and Gabrielle looked at her team and asked “Are we ready?”

There were nods and then they moved together to the front lines to take their positions.

 

_She’s so pretty and neat_

_She’s so sweet and complete_

_She’s sung captain and sailors to sleep sleep sleep,_

_She’s sung Captain and sailors to sleep._

_Then she robbed them of silver_

_She robbed them of gold_

_She robbed them of costly wares-o_

_Then took his broadsword instead of an oar_

_And paddled her way to the shore, shore, shore_

_And paddled her way to the shore..._

**_-Maiden Alone on the Shore_ **

**Day 40: Before sunrise, City Lookout**

Bulogus would often say that he was not just a watchman. He was a highly specialized mercenary, hired for one specific task as part of the security purchased by the miners of Namea. He was a skilled archer, formidable at hand to hand combat, and had been fired upon more times than he could remember. Even so, the sight of two full sized catapults being moved into position and aimed directly at his station on the city walls was causing a serious intestinal problem.

Though not an experienced tactician, he was still capable of trying to figure out what this meant other than his own probable death. Why attack this rear section of the walls while the main force was off assaulting the front gates?

His post was heavily fortified, with little wood for the catapult’s cargo to burn. There was only a small entry directly beneath him, which was covered by the bow of his partner Astus in another alcove below and to his left. The iron door was locked, and it was completely barricaded on the side opening onto the city. Anyone foolish enough to try to crash through it would attract the arrows of Astus. Even if they were able to smash their way through alive, they would be caught inside the walls at the base of a small winding stair where they would be picked off one at a time by an alerted Bulogus firing from above. What by Ares’ sword were they up to?

The first flame ball passed over him by a good series of lengths and he still had the presence of mind to yell to Astus, “Look smart, they’re up to some...” but his cry was covered by the explosion of fire behind him. He could hear the reserves being awakened from their exhaustion as the fire brigades headed for the tainted water supplies used to dowse the flames from this unexpected rear attack.

He had time to look to see if Astus was still in place when the second catapult fired at that location, before seeing to his horror that adjustments were being made to the first catapult to head the next canister directly at him. His eyes widened and he flung himself down to the ground behind the stone walls, so he was not able to see the small runner burst from the lines towards the other guard post. Nor the other three that made the shorter dash to the walls on the near side.

Ikaros had almost made his run the moment he had seen the first shot fired, but the guard had stayed at his post. He was trembling, his eyes focused on his objective as it received a near direct hit from the second catapult. He readied for his run, “Imagine it’s your wife there” Gabrielle had advised. So with that thought, he sprinted the moment Bulogus dropped from sight, covering the open ground and leaping over the low fortification before the smaller man inside could recover from the blast. It only took a quick blow to the head, and he was able to tear the helmet off the unconscious mercenary and place it on his own. As if on cue, the guard at the high tower was up and Ikaros waved an okay signal to him. No longer covered by his position, Gabrielle, Autolycus, and Salmakis crept along the walls to the small iron door beneath the watchtower.

For some reason Ikaros wished that he could tell the girl that the guard was alive, that it hadn’t been necessary to use his knife, but any movement like that would have been suspicious. He kept his head low, and waited to see if the upper guards sounded an alarm. Minutes passed and he realised with almost fainting relief that he had been quick enough.

Meanwhile, Bulogus heard sounds in the corridor approaching his location. He was turning, reaching for the alarm bell, when he collided into a solid wall of man. He had time to look up into the eyes of the giant holding him and see the tocsin already being placed carefully back in its alcove. He couldn't see the second figure, but before stars filled his vision he heard him comment slyly, "Ask not for whom the bell tolls; it ain't for us." And then he was unconscious.

 

_Have her wash it in yonder dry well_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_where water ne'er sprung nor drop of rain fell_

_And then she'll be a true love of mine_

**_-Scarborough Fair_ **

**Day 40: Sunrise**

As soon as it was clear that Autolycus and Salmakis were going to get through the gate, Gabrielle slipped her way along the walls to her rendezvous. The large wicker basket was exactly where it was supposed to be, but it was still with great trepidation she climbed gingerly aboard. She was just pulling her staff inside when the ropes tautened and it lurched upwards.

Gabrielle clutched the ropes that supported the basket, and tried not to look upwards along the walls of the fort.

‘ _Oh Gods, looking down is worse_ ’ she swallowed as the ground swayed around her. ‘ _I knew I didn’t like this part of the plan.’_ She wanted to check to see that the rest of the team had accomplished their objectives, but it seemed easier to keep her eyes closed as the basket continued to move upward in a series of jerks and pauses. She was just wondering ‘ _how high up am I now?_ ’ when the wind caught the basket and she began to sway so far from side to side having to grip the brim to remain in it. ‘ _XENA!_ ’ she called out inwardly. _‘I’m coming for you!’_ She focused on that thought until the basket settled and it began to rise again.

She knew they were finally reaching the top when the rate of ascent slowed and she could hear the grunts of the men hauling on the ropes. The basket’s rim caught on the top of the walls and tipped over. She’d anticipated that and with staff firmly in hand pushed herself out, trying to land gracefully.

She looked up to find herself surrounded by soldiers led by a slightly built man dressed in silken clothes.

Agathes was bubbling over with smugness.

“Welcome, Bard. I’m so very happy you made it here. I think you may be just the key to a certain lock that I’ve been looking for.”

Gabrielle was able to get the satisfaction of seeing three of the soldiers fall before they overwhelmed her.


	3. Chapter 3

Main disclaimers in Part I. The characters of Xena, Gabrielle and Autolycus are owned by Renpics apparently, and not only that, I’m not going to make any money from this!

 

Characters:

Agathes: Head of the council of the besieged mining city of Namea, who tricked Xena and held her in an escape proof prison underground. He waited to trap Gabrielle in order to force Xena to lead the cities armies and mercenaries.

Rukcal: Leader of the forces surrounding Namea, who has ‘hired’ Gabrielle to break the stalemate

Polybus: Ruler of Corinth, who along with his wife, encouraged Xena, Gabrielle and a certain friend, to attempt to negotiate a peace. Now that they have failed, he now plans to wait for the right moment and sweep both opposition forces and claim the silver rich mine and city for himself.

**In the Heart** **of the Siege**

**Part III**

**by Kamouraskan**

_Have her make me a cambric shirt_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Without no seam nor fine needle work_

_And then she'll be a true love of mine_

**_-Scarborough Fair_ **

****

**Day 40: Noon**

The pounding in her head was almost enough to make her ignore her abrupt awakening. Barely conscious one moment, the next lifted in strange arms and dragged through some corridor. Despite all of that, she somehow managed to keep from groaning and remained limp. It was only when they passed through a doorway and were outside that she realised that something had gone seriously wrong with her plan.

Through her closed eyelids she could see sunlight, and she knew that she’d been unconscious for hours.

_‘Oh God’s! This could mess up everything!’_

As she peeked through the slits of her eyes, she recognised that they were in the town square. It had once been a grand open space, but now it was filled with shacks and shelters for all those who had lived outside the walls and now had no refuge or family. Here the stench of starvation and illness was the most obvious, and it redoubled her desire to do something to help.

She opened her eyes enough to note with relief that she was being taken towards the mine entrance, and that as always there were three tall men on guard. Three large, very familiar looking men, despite their bodies and faces being almost entirely covered by armour and helmets.

At a quick order, her body was roughly transferred to two of them, and the entrance was opened. With one leading ahead of Agathes, and followed by the two holding her, they entered the mine.

If it was possible to drag someone gently, Ikaros and Salmakis were trying to manage it. She opened her eyes in the flickering torchlight to see Agathes’ back just ahead of her with the soldier she knew to be Autolycus proceeding him.

‘ _What will she say_?’ Gabrielle thought as the anticipation rose in her. _“No ‘thank you’. Not Xena. Maybe just that crooked smile and feigned boredom. ‘Took you long enough’?’_ she laughed to herself.

When they stopped and Agathes moved to unlock the door, the men released her. The politician turned, saying, “Throw her in there...” and stopped, stunned to see the girl standing free with a somehow familiar smile curling around her lips which clearly said, ‘I don’t think you quite understand the situation here.’

But a “Gabrielle!” from Autolycus froze that expression, and she followed his eyes to the interior of the barred chamber.

The cell was empty.

Except for her own Amazon staff.

With an intensity that shocked even her, she was on the small man in a flash, knocking him down and pulling the dagger out of his sheath and holding it to his throat.

“Where is she?” she demanded harshly.

Agathes was almost too stunned to respond, so the knife point had to prick the sensitive skin below his ear before he began to babble. “She broke. She finally broke. She agreed to work with us... when I told her we had captured you. But only if you were placed somewhere you would be safe. This was the safest place I could think of!”

Gabrielle froze for a moment, not even breathing. ‘ _She didn’t... believe in me. In the end, I was still... just... Damn Her!’_ And it hurt. Deeper than she had ever imagined any emotion could. She let go of the scalp she had been gripping and bowed her head. A sickly chuckle escaped her lips and taking a deep breath, she looked into her prisoner’s eyes.

“She gave her oath?” she asked quietly.

He nodded.

“What were the words? The exact words.”

Nervously, he answered. “That until she saw that Rukcal was defeated completely, she would fight for us against all our enemies.”

Still holding the knife, Gabrielle rose, and walked away to face the wall.

The others looked at her with concern but waited until Autolycus went to her and asked, “Gabrielle? I’m not big on introspection normally, and this really isn’t the time for it.”

The girl turned to look at him from some place far away and then her eyes partially cleared. “I’m fine. And we’re still getting out of here.” She cleared her throat and instructed the giant, “Tell him what will happen if we don’t leave here unharmed.”

Salmakis smiled and picked up Agathes like a baby and crooned to his ear, “We’re leaving this place, and yer not gonna make even the littlest squeak except to order them to back off. You got me? ‘Cause you want to be alive after this is over, right? It wouldn’t matter how many arrows I get in me, this knife‘ll be ripping into yer spine like you was a fish bein’ cleaned.” and then flung the man to the ground. Autolycus pursed his mouth and commented appreciatively, “That was one of the better threats I’ve heard.”

The giant grinned. “I always wanted to be a bard.”

“We may need one,” Autolycus said, looking to the silent Gabrielle, before approaching her again. He placed a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off. “Gabrielle. I can take over, but I need to know... are we talking about leaving the mine, or the city? We have to stick around to get a message to Xena, don’t we?”

She spun around and he was shocked to see the anger burning in her eyes.

“Don’t you get it, Auto? XENA’s the enemy now. Xena gave her word! Don’t you know what that MEANS?” The thief backed away in surprise. Gabrielle raised the knife and waved it in frustration towards the prisoner still lying on the floor. “Look at Agathes. He broke his word to capture her. Now he’s not... He can’t sign a contract, swear an oath, be a judge or part of his family any more. Legally he’s nothing. And Xena? Xena believes all she has is her word, it’s all she holds onto some nights. She could no more break her word then I could...”

Auto caught the hand that held the knife. “Kill someone?”

Gabrielle stared at the blade, and let him take it from her.

“Then we get out while we can? Use him as a hostage to get out of the gates?”

Gabrielle laughed but there was no humour in it. “With Xena in charge? She’d have ten plans to stop us before we got anywhere near the gates. No, we get out of the mine, but not the city.”

“But she wouldn’t...”

“Auto, didn’t you hear him? ‘All of their enemies’. What would you call someone holding the leader of the council hostage?”

“So?”

_‘Planning requires flexibility, Gabrielle. Plenty of time to react and a mind that is capable of adapting to the changed conditions’._

“We need time, and a place to hide and think.”

****

_She put her foot upon his ship_

_No mariners could she behold_

_But the sails were o the taffetie_

_And the masts o the beaten gold_

_They had not sailed a league a league_

_A league but barely three_

_Until she espied his cloven foot_

_And she wept right bitterlie_

**_-The Demon Lover_ **

**Day 40: Sunset**

“Go.”

The soldier raised his arm to salute, then stopped, “Yes Ma’am.” Xena smiled grimly at that and returned to her lists. Considering that she’d been held in a cell for several days, she felt just great. If it weren’t for the one nagging worry... “Gabrielle.”

“NO! NO! NO!” The voice behind her was adamant. She didn’t have to turn to know the speaker.

“Ares.”

The God of War strolled over and glanced at the papers Xena was studying. “I see you’ve tightened the guard and given orders to have anyone trying to leave the city killed. Good idea.”

“Thanks. What do you want?”

The God ignored her question. “After all, it’s vital that no one finds out who’s really in charge now.” He materialized a chair behind him and slipped into it gracefully. “We both know you’re the best, and news like that would change everyone’s calculations.” As she continued to ignore him, he placed one boot on the table, and then the other. “The very best.”

Giving up any pretense at avoiding this conversation, she glared at him across the table. “I should have known anything this messed up, had to have you involved somewhere.”

Ares shook his head. “Nope, I’m completely innocent.” He paused and grinned. “Well, maybe not about some things, but you mortals managed this one all by yourselves. But I must admit I like the way it’s working out.”

“You would.”

“Admit it, Xena. You missed this. A command of your own? Despite all the nasty suspicions and bad memories these people have of you, in just a few hours you’re already getting those gratifying looks of fear and respect. I love it! And so do you. You feed on that.”

“I used to.”

“Oh yes, before your _conversion_. My brother and a little girl tamed the great warrior... yadda yadda.” he abandoned the derisive tone and spoke evenly. “They found a weakness and built on it. Haven’t you asked yourself why it was so easy for you to be captured by these idiots? You must know why.”

“No, Ares. Why don’t you tell me.”

“Because... you’d listened to too many stories told by that irritating blonde, and you... you actually began to believe them. You listened to fairy tales about this hero Xena, and that wonderful strategic mind turned to mush. Weakness, Xena, that’s all this whole _conversion_ has been about.”

Ares stood and put his hands on her shoulders, staring directly into her eyes. “Now you’ve been handed another chance. A once in a lifetime chance, Xena. There’s a leadership vacuum here waiting to be filled. Three armies are about to clash head on, and when it’s over, someone is going to hold the richest silver mine in Greece, and the largest fortress on the continent. And with the Corinthian army in tatters, Corinth will be naked. Corinth, Xena. The one blemish on your record, just waiting for you to walk in.

“I hate to see talent, real talent going to waste.”

There was one last seductive whisper right by her ear. “This is who you are, this is where you are supposed to be.” And with that he vanished.

 

As always, his gibes unsettled her more than she cared to admit. Was he right? Her usual rule of thumb was that whenever Ares was in favour of something, she only had to take a long look at it before finding the rot underneath.

But why had she ridden into a camp of enemies?

She remembered the first time she had heard Gabrielle tell one of her, one of THEIR adventures. How could she not be affected? Watching that callow, though occasionally articulate bard, describe her as a champion back then had been a jolting experience, something she had tried to laugh off as a product of too much hero worship. But as their relationship had deepened, as she had learned to respect the young girl, as she had begun to imagine that maybe, just maybe, she was using her sword for a better cause... It had changed her view of herself. That the joy she felt in fighting the smug and powerful was different from the savage glee she had once taken in crushing the same people her new adversaries were oppressing.

But Ares was correct in one detail. Command was intoxicating. It drew on so many of her talents. It was what she did best. There was no indecision, no worry about consequences other than what benefited her plans. It still felt... right.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of tramping feet and Agathes burst into her room followed by his military aides. She glared at him without attempting to conceal her distaste for him or his interruption. ‘ _A leadership vacuum,’_ she thought. ‘ _Ares had that one right_.’

“What do you want now, Agathes?”

The politician’s face was flushed and his robes were in disarray as well. “What do I want?” he shouted. “I want the head of that little bard!”

Xena showed her most derisive grin. “What’s she done to upset you? ‘ _Good one, whatever it is, Gabrielle.’_

_“_ What’s she DONE? Her whole capture was a ruse! It was all a trick to free you!”

With a sinking heart, Xena looked to the aides. One of them took the lead. “Two of the northern lookouts were overpowered during the attack tonight. Somehow it was done with no alarm being raised. While the girl was being brought in, three soldiers infiltrated and took the place of the guards at the mine. When she was taken to your former cell, they accompanied our.. leader, and he was overpowered by...” he paused for effect “...the girl.”

Agathes stormed about the room ignoring the smirks of his assistants. “She was in charge! She held me down and put a knife to my throat. LOOK!” He tilted his head back and showed the trivial cut.

“I’d say you were lucky it wasn’t me holding the knife,” Xena said.

At this Agathes smiled. “Yes, you weren’t there, were you? And that fact seemed to upset her quite a bit.”

Though the truth of her mistake was tearing at her insides, guilt was an intimate friend to Xena and she managed to remain outwardly cool. “Where are they now?”

Agathes stopped and pointed his finger at the warrior. “That’s not my responsibility, that’s yours now, isn’t it? I want a house to house search initiated immediately. Or is the word of the Warrior Princess worth so little?”

He never saw anything move that quickly before. It seemed as though one minute the woman was several feet away, and the next she was twisting his arm behind him, forcing him up onto his toes. Whispering into his ear with dark menace, “You’re walking a very thin line here, Agathes, and if you keep it up, I’ll extend the one Gabrielle began on your throat. You got me?”

She dropped him to the ground, and spoke in a more normal tone. “We can announce that we’re looking for some spies, and what the consequences will be if anyone should help them. We’ve already made sure they can’t leave the city. But I am not going to waste men and resources and destroy morale just to find... how many?” She looked over to the soldier who’d spoken before.

“Four including the girl.”

“Four people. Just like the rest of us, they’re trapped here, in enemy territory, with no one who will lend them a hand as long as we don’t provoke anything.”

Agathes raised himself and sputtered defiantly. “So you’ll do nothing? And what if they are captured, what will you do then? They are OUR enemies.”

There was no passion in that stolid face now. “And that’s how they’ll be treated if and when we find them.”


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

_Have her find me an acre of land_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Between the sea foam and over the sand_

_And then she'll be a true love of mine_

**_-Scarborough Fair_ **

**Day 41: Sunset**

On a corner of the shadowed edges of the tented multitude, in what had been the main square, Gabrielle sat by herself, trying to hate Xena.

She was disguised as an old woman, in a row of others segregated by their age and a sense of uselessness in the present circumstances, who each watched the hardships around them with cloudy and helpless eyes.

_‘Starving seems to affect different people different ways_ ,’ Gabrielle thought morosely.

Nearby a woman with two hollow eyed children had apparently sold her body for a promise of a chicken. Now with the promise not fulfilled, she stood screaming at a leering man, and enduring the taunts of his friends while the children watched as well. It was only one in a series of disputes she had witnessed as civilization’s veneer crumbled before fear and hunger.

Gabrielle watched the exchange helplessly, knowing that everything depended on her not attracting any attention. Guilt ridden, she thought of the food that they had in the tent just behind her. Sharing it would draw attention. Helping out in the hospice would draw attention. Writing down her thoughts of this moment was also out.... all because Xena would count on it and have people watching for her.

_Damn her! Damn it! I risked my life and these men’s lives. I was willing to do anything. I was ready to break every principle, every tenet and belief to keep our pact of partnership. When I think of all those times I stayed still with a knife at my throat, trusting in what I saw in her eyes…_

Those eyes.

Even now she was afraid to raise her own to the tower where she knew Xena was plotting. In case somehow, the warrior would sense her through her disguise. The thought of her warrior, yes HER warrior, scheming away... Was she listening to her bard’s voice now? Or only Ares’?

Damn her!

‘ _She withstood torture and a living death, Gabrielle. She finally broke in order to save you._ ’

Damn her ten times more!

Fine. She couldn’t fight her feelings for Xena, her responsibility and conscience at the same time. She would solve this riddle. She had to. For each of the people around her and for Xena in spite of it all.

“Bread? Any bread for work?”

A beggar’s cry broke into her thoughts and she glanced upwards cautiously to meet the smile of Autolycus. He moved to sit beside her, his eyes darting about the masses.

“So how’s the big guy doing?”

She tried not to look towards the canvass awning where the giant was hidden. “He’s fine, just a little tent fever. Where’s Ikaros?” Since Xena had no doubt given out descriptions of Auto and Gabrielle, and as Salmakis was just too large to not be noticed, only Ikaros could move freely. “Have you got everything?”

Autolycus went through the list of items. “We have the binding twine, the paints and stains and I think this latest batch of soap will make a foam that’ll last for more than long enough.”

“Are you sure we need the foam? It hardly fits the symptoms.”

“Gabrielle, it’s all about show. And you did ask for our contributions.”

“True.”

“Are you okay?”

She recognised the concern even as she rejected it. “I’m ready, and that’s all that counts. You picked out the ‘volunteers?”

“Just waiting for the change of guard. With a little help from Salmakis, I think we can press gang a few helpers. So, can I go tell him the good news? It’ll be dark soon, and I think he’d like to be out and bopping a few heads.”

“Make sure they’re capable of walking afterwards.”

“We don’t want any unnecessary deaths either, Gabrielle.”

“They’ll be more effective if they can move. That’s all,” she muttered.

“Sure, Gabrielle.”

There was that bite in her voice, even as she kept the tone quiet. “Don’t patronize me, Auto. We’ll all do what we have to do.”

“Gabrielle... don’t...” the thief found himself at a loss for once.

“Don’t what?”

Auto hesitated, but completed the thought. “Don’t lose what’s most precious to you.”

Gabrielle was silent for a moment before answering quietly, “What if I already have?”

_I’d rather be in some dark holler_

_Where the sun refused to shine_

_Then to see you, as another man’s darling_

_And to know you never can be mine_

**Day 41: Evening**

Gabrielle would have recognized the signs. The unusual, rare, and very hard to detect mark of a nervous Warrior Princess. She also might have found pleasure in the reasons for it.

That there had been no word or action from Gabrielle for one day and night.

Xena was not one for agonizing over opponents or details normally. But never before had she had to face an opponent as unpredictable as this one, or one that knew her as well

Better than anyone in fact.

_Then toss in that Gabrielle might be hurt, that Ares might interfere, that Gabrielle might actually decide that my death was the only solution... and would she be wrong?_

_NO! I’ve got to stop this. It’s not like I don’t have enough to keep me busy. Compartmentalize. Sort, review and then wait. Why can’t I do that this time?_

_Anyway. Maybe I’m overreacting. Overestimating Gabrielle just as I underestimated her before. Perhaps she’s just waiting for me, trying to find a way to contact me to help her?_

The answer came as all Tartarus broke loose outside.

She almost leaped over one of the soldiers she had promoted to her assistant as she charged down the stairway.

“Andronicus, what’s going on?” she called as she passed him.

The young man tried to keep up with his commander. “I don’t know, but someone’s yelling about plague!”

When they burst into the barracks, there was tumult. She was shocked to see that several guards had left their stations and panic was in evidence on everyone’s face.

She grabbed the first man she knew was supposed to be on duty and demanded, “Why aren’t you at your post?”

Shaking his head, afraid of the one thing that he feared more than this woman, he babbled, “Plague! Men came at us. Like zombies, like... Like him! Look!”

He pointed at a figure staggering towards them. It was a soldier; his face covered with red blotches. A foam flecked mouth opened and closed as though he was without reason.

Xena snarled. “You idiots! Plague? And rabid at the same time? I don’t think so.”

To the amazement of the cowering men she strode directly over to the soldier and wiped away the foam, to uncover twine strapped about his mouth. She hung her head, but her mind was racing. She turned to address the regiment. “They were walking ‘funny’ because they’ve been trussed up to walk that way, and they were foaming and grunting because they have this bit across their mouths and soapsuds painted on.” She shouted to the watchman, “Quick! Get back to your post and see what you weren’t supposed to see.”

She snapped the cord and demanded of the man, “Who?”

“Two men, maybe three, but it was a witch in charge, in the shape of a girl,” he gasped out. “She said to tell you... she sent you a message....”

“Yes?”

“She said she would make you pay.”

The warrior closed her eyes, but a something she recognised as faith made her ask: “Did she say ‘make me pay’, or that there would be paybacks?”

The soldier blinked in confusion. “Paybacks. Why?”

Relief. Blessed relief flowed through her and her strained muscles sagged in release. “It makes a difference.” ‘ _All the difference in the world._ ’

A shout from the top of the walls distracted them all. “I can see... four people, headed for Rukcal’s headquarters! Out of our bowman’s range now.”

All turned to see how their commander was taking this, but she simply turned and walked back to her tower. They might have been surprised at her thoughts though.

“ _Gods speed, Gabrielle. But you will be back, won’t you? For me?”_

_“I hae seven ships upon the sea_

_The eighth brought me to land_

_With four and twenty bold mariners_

_and music on every hand...”_

**_-The Demon Lover_ **

****

**Day 42: After Midnight**

The moon was momentarily obscured by clouds and the resonance of the usual night sounds fell silent in the woods outside Rukcal’s main encampment. Gabrielle quickly moved into her defensive stance, gripping the staff. The rustling sound had come from behind her, and not from the direction she was expecting her visitor. She straightened as Autolycus’ form emerged from the bush.

“Auto?” she hissed in anger. “Get back to the camp! I’m supposed to be meeting Rukcal alone.”

“I checked, and he’s nowhere near. So I thought I’d see how you were doing.”

Still agitated, she nervously released a puff of air that lifted her bangs for a moment. “I’m fine.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think so.”

“Auto,” she cried in exasperation.

He shrugged and squatted his frame on a stump. “Okay. You’re great. But I thought you might like to hear what the guys are saying about you. Come on. You’ve got time. Pull up a log.”

Taking a glance about her, she nodded and sat down beside him.

“I think you’ll like this. Salmakis just said that Xena couldn’t be such a great leader, because part of the leader skills package is that they should be able to evaluate the people closest to them. Well, he didn’t say evaluate, but anyway, he said that by giving up on you, she obviously didn’t do a very good job. He said he’d follow you ahead of Xena any day. And Ikaros agreed. I’d say you have your own private army now.”

He wore a strange grin that Gabrielle didn’t find familiar, and she uneasily responded, “I just did what Xena taught me to do.”

“Uh huh. The pupil beat the teacher, Gabrielle. And come on. You have to admit, you would have loved to have seen her face when she figured out the plague scam. Admit it.”

Gabrielle stared at the man beside her before rising and gripping the staff, even though she knew it was useless. With a suddenly dry mouth, she said, “You’re not Autolycus.”

The form in front of her seemed to melt somehow into a slightly different shape, burlier, with different leathers. Ares smiled and said, “No, but is that really a bad thing?”

Fighting the fear that she felt, and all that his presence here might mean, she managed to ask, “What do you want?”

“Oh Gabrielle. I’m here to show you something. I’m here to stop you from taking steps on a path I know you’ll regret someday.”

And then the woods were gone.

She was standing in a large dusty cavern, with thousands of skeins and threads crowding around her. More then she had seen in the largest shops in Athens. The God of War waited for her first question.

“Where is this place?”

“I would have thought a bard would recognise it immediately.”

Recognition dawned. “The Fates...”

“Good. I hate when I have to run through the basics with mortals. Now I’m going to do you that favour, Gabrielle. Show you something few mortals ever see. And I’m going to give you a chance to change your fate.”

He directed her eyes to his side. “See this strand? This is yours and this is Xena’s. Notice the purity of this one... and how it contrasts so much with the dark one? But as they become more entwined, the white will grow dirtier, dimmer until...” Ares waved his hand and a kind of mirror appeared before them both. Gabrielle would have fallen backwards if his arm had not been prepared for that move. She felt no comfort reposing in that strong restraint, but there was something that prickled her senses.

The pictures she was looking at consisted of a series of montages, of herself but not herself. A deadlier, stronger woman, who was tearing through a line of soldiers using some form of small sword. She watched in mute fascination as several spurts of blood stained her arms and legs, and yet this Gabrielle did not blink or hesitate. Just moved on in lethal brilliancy. Ares whispered into her ear, “Tell me if this is what you had planned for yourself.”

“No. That’s not me, not...” she stuttered.

“Who you are? Oh yes, it is.”

She desperately tried to get her reeling mind to work. What had Xena told her about Ares? He never lied but... “I can change this, can’t I?”

Another wave and the vision was gone. “Only if you leave Xena. Only if you leave her path as it slowly, inevitably darkens your own thread.”

She had to think. ‘ _He never lies, but... what? He... he avoids the truth! That was it. What is he not saying...?’_

“Xena,” she declared.

Ares shook his head at her nonsequitor. “What?”

Swallowing, she said, “Where is Xena’s future?”

There. The God was slightly off balance. “This isn’t about her. This is about you.”

Now she spoke with confidence. “No. It isn’t. You don’t give a damn about me. This is all about Xena. She changes as well, doesn’t she? We change each other. That’s what you’re frightened of.”

Taken by surprise, Ares took a moment before moving aggressively towards her. “Are you willing to give up your soul for the chance of her becoming a bit... more mellow?”

Gabrielle didn’t move an inch from where she stood. “If that’s all it was, you wouldn’t be talking to me now. A Xena fighting for the greater good can change the world. Save thousands of lives. And that, “ and to his astonishment the girl pointed a steady finger at him, “and anything else that upsets the God of War is GREAT in my scroll.”

Trying to be casual, Ares threw up his arms and pronounced, “Fine. I was just trying to be helpful.”

Anger was still blazing from the green eyes. “You were doing what you always do. Helping yourself. Well, Xena’s not yours. Not anymore.”

“And whose is she? Yours?” he laughed.

“She’s who she is. Her own, and so am I.”

Now he stared directly into her eyes. “I could crush you. Like that. “ He moved to snap his fingers, but stopped. “... and no one would know.”

Somehow she didn’t flinch. “Then why haven’t you?”

Grinning again, he backed away spreading his hands. “Because that would be too easy. Or you might be useful. But I may get lazy, so don’t press me, little girl.”

Suddenly she was back standing in the woods, and alone except for a whisper that came from no specific direction. “You are so very young, Gabrielle. With so many things to learn...”

She remained where she was for a moment, listening to the pounding of her heart, when her knees crumpled beneath her. Her breathing and her hands began to shake and the tremors began to spread to the rest of her body.

_How does Xena face him? How do you face down a God? And what will he do? I can’t beat him, I can’t...._

_Yes. I can. Xena can. I will. I have to. Somehow. There is always a way._


	5. Chapter 5

Further disclaimers in Part I but they are not mine.

Characters:

Agathes: Head of the council of the besieged mining city of Namea, who tricked Xena and held her in an escape proof prison underground. Gabrielle arranged for her escape but Xena assumed Gabrielle had been captured too, and agreed to lead the military forces until she had ‘seen General Rukcal defeated.’

Rukcal: Leader of the mercenary forces surrounding Namea, who has ‘hired’ Gabrielle to break the stalemate.

Polybus: Ruler of Corinth, who along with his wife, encouraged Xena, Gabrielle and Autolycus, to attempt to negotiate a peace. Now that they have failed, he plans to wait for the right moment and sweep both opposition forces and claim the silver rich mine and city for himself.

We rejoin them after Ares appeared and threatened Gabrielle.

**In the Heart** **of the Siege**

**by Kamouraskan**

**Part V**

 

_Me men must be crazy, me men must be mad_

_Me men must be deep in dispar-o_

_For to let you away_

_from my cabin so gay_

_And to paddle your way to the shore, shore shore_

_And to paddle your way to the shore_

_- **A Maiden Alone On The Shore**_

**Day 42: After Midnight**

Gabrielle stayed there, kneeling in the bracken for a moment before slowly standing, still feeling the shock of her defiance to the God of War coursing through her body. She thought she was once again in control of herself, when like a repeat of the nightmare, Autolycus’ face appeared between the bushes in front of her.

“Gab? Our guest is on his way. Are you ready to make him welcome?”

Seeing her obvious state of shock, Autolycus’ expression changed and worry replaced inquiry. “Gab?”

There was a slight hesitation, but it was not in her nature to let anyone take on more danger than they were aware of, or prepared to face.

“Auto? Ares just paid a visit. He told me he wasn’t planning on getting involved, but I think that’s only as long as things are going the way he wants. And us freeing Xena from her obligations isn’t a part of that.”

“Oh.”

Gabrielle’s skin crawled for a moment as the thief duplicated Ares’ actions of a moment before, seating himself on the same log and beckoning her over. Nevertheless she sank down beside him, and didn’t protest when he pulled her shoulder so that she was leaning against him. Some sense within her could perceive that this really was her friend, and that knowledge allowed her to release some of her tension.

“I’m guessing you want to know if I want out?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I’m not going to let you go back alone. Not only would Xena eventually remember to kill me if I did, but both your men back there wouldn’t let me either.” She smiled at that. “ I mean it, Salmakis, and Ikaros have really got a thing...”

“I heard. Or at least Ares told me,” she interrupted.

“A sign of good taste. And aside from that, the only money in this whole deal is back in that city, and I’m not going to let you cut me out now.”

Gabrielle gazed at her friend for a moment longer before stretching her neck to kiss his cheek softly. “Thank you.”

Auto chuckled and said, “I’m just happy to lend a firm and experienced hand.”

Gabrielle coughed. “Okay, but would you please take it off my thigh?”

They both rose with identical smirks and Gabrielle took the offending hand carefully, saying, “Thank you, again.”

As he moved off into the brush, he said, grinning, “You think I just did that to distract you, don’t you? You don’t seem to realise that you’re growing into a very beautiful woman, Gabrielle.”

She smiled back. “Auto? Did I mention that when Ares first arrived here he was disguised as you? I don’t think I can believe anything coming out of that mouth right now.”

Chagrined, the thief muttered half to himself, “I’m usually better at this. What is it about you and Xena? My timing is always...”

Then without finishing the sentence, he ducked under cover, but as he did, he whispered just loudly enough for her to hear, “And Gab? You can do this.”

 

It wasn’t long after he’d left, that she heard the sound of thrashing in the underbrush and an angry General Rukcal appeared in the clearing. “Now. Which of my lieutenants is a spy? And what information is SO vital that I have to meet you alone, just so this traitor won’t know about it?”

The girl addressed him calmly. “Xena is about to raid your food stores tonight.”

“Xena? She’s taken command in the city? How do you know?”

“I told you. I know her. She has to strike before you find out she’s in command, and she would never have starving men fight off your attack when there’s food nearby.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes when the news seemed to invigorate the warlord. He turned away from her and raised two fists in exultation to the darkened skies. “Xena! I’ve always wanted to meet her!”

There was no forewarning, just a crack of the staff against his skull and then Gabrielle was speaking to an unconscious man at her feet. “You’re in luck, then.”

_4)‘Peace Good Judge, sweet Lord Judge_

_Peace for just a while_

_I think I see my sister_

_Riding by the stile_

_A little of your gold, ma soeur_

_And likewise of your fee_

_To save my body from yonder grave_

_and my neck from the hangman’s tree’_

_“None of my gold now shall you have_

_Nor likewise of my fee_

_For I have come to see you hanging_

_And hanged you shall be”_

**_-A Maid Saved From Hanging_ **

 

**Day 42: Moonset**

“Don’t you find it quiet?” Ismene asked.

Polybus did not look up from the maps he was studying. “That’s the advantage of the thickness of this tent, dear,” he murmured absently.

“It’s not simply that. You don’t feel it’s... unnatural? I’m used to hearing the men singing songs the night before the battle. It’s one of my favorite memories from my father’s campaigns.” ‘ _And one of the few’,_ she thought.

“You know the men are under orders to bank the fires, in all manner of ways. No one is to know how close we are to Namea.”

“Yes, but it’s unnatural. I can feel the excitement and yet... the men’s expectations need ...”

At this she received a wide grin. “Yes. The excitement, it needs an outlet.” He looked pointedly to his maps. “It will have one soon enough.”

She gazed at her husband, and could feel even in the plush confines of the tent that he was also filled with an anticipation that she could not satisfy.

_Why does this feel wrong somehow? He is basically a good man. He has acted with honour more times than not, and now he is using his skills at war to shape his destiny and that of his followers. To all of our advantages. To seize this opportunity as it is being presented. That is why I married him._

“By now, Parmenion should have managed to slip past Namea along the coast.”

Parmenion. She knew him. An ugly squat man, but one with her husband’s confidence and admittedly a talent at leading men on scouting forays.

“I wager he made camp last night with almost the entire column intact. Without alerting even the owls in the trees. He’ll be prepared to attack the far edge of the Rukcal’s blockade by the morrow’s sunset, if the General hasn’t begun his offensive by then.”

_‘Tomorrow. When many of the boys that were so boldly sauntering about outside would be lying in their own blood, or causing the deaths of many more. The way of the soldier, the way of an army. This is what I wanted’_

“We’ve made good time, dear, and according to the provisioners, we’ve lost less then a dozen men and horses on the ride! Our appearance will be a complete surprise to both Agathes and General Rukcal.”

_‘Do I truly love him? He is the King, someday I might be Queen, and there is no end to the line of women who are envious of me. I can not regret my choice. What else am I asking for?_

“It will be glorious. Rukcal and his pathetic excuses for hoplites, and Agathes’ hired men have never seen what instant destruction a perfectly honed phalanx can cause. Anything or anyone attempting to repel them will fall before the fifth rank can clean their spears.”

Her eyes studied the man gloating in front of her. His face was not common, his build and form pleasing to her eye. There was mutual respect; she would always honour him and their marriage bed. Why was there this nagging sense that they were setting foot on the wrong path? Why would she have any misgiving about success? She forcibly crushed a vision of the warrior and her bard bloodily skewered on a sarissa.

Polybus yawned and laid his papers aside. “But let us leave this disposition to the Fates and the Gods for the night. Until we wake there is nothing we can do. Tomorrow, we shall be very busy, and a good nights sleep is called for.”

Forcefully casting aside her misgivings about the bloody conflict the next day, Ismene summoned her most seductive smile and rose to aid in his undressing, guiding him towards their bedding. “As you wish, my Liege.”

 

_Plow the land with the horn of a lamb_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Then sow some seeds from north of the dam_

_And then she'll be a true love of mine_

**_-Scarborough Fair_ **

 

**Day 42: Before Sunrise**

Xena had been very busy for the last candlemark. She had not only managed to slip unnoticed into Rukcal’s camp ahead of her hastily assembled strike force and opened the animal pens, but had also sabotaged two catapults before setting fire to the main tents on the periphery of the blockading army’s main compound. As the flames began to spread, her forces had charged into the disorganized camp. Shouting and whooping until the cattle had stampeded, then making a hasty exit in high spirits. Now part of that raiding squad was driving and herding the animals towards the gates of Namea and she was watching the rearguard force that had remained behind to maintain the chaos and delay an organised counter attack. Even amid the frenzied cries of Rukcal’s men trying to create a posse, she had stayed behind looking for a certain golden-headed bard.

Finally she had run out of time, and as the last of her soldiers rode past her, she ran her sword through several more guy lines, and striking a poor fool who attempted to stop her team of horses, she drove her cart out of the camp.

With the chaos breaking out, it was not surprising that she was the only one who noticed the wagon joining her convoy. Breaking from the shelter of a group of trees, as if it had been waiting for just this moment. Even in the darkness she recognised the driver as Autolycus, before he slipped ahead and merged faultlessly with the others headed for the city. But she was not focused on that sight for long when she saw, no... _felt_ , the presence of Gabrielle running alongside of her. She reached down and effortlessly hauled the girl on board and up beside her.

Relief fought briefly with anger and lost. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Are you insane? Have you finally gone completely insane?” she shouted.

The smaller woman squared her shoulders and yelled right back, “I’m insane? Thank you very much! Let me tell you, PRINCESS, this isn’t exactly the thank you and apology I was counting on!”

The warrior glowered and turned back to the intricate task of keeping the cart ahead of the pursuers that were now spilling out of the camp behind them like hornets from a burst nest.

“Well?” the bard demanded, even as her stomach jumped with the cart as it passed over a series of ruts.

The warrior muttered something that was lost over the rumble of the wheels. “Did you say something?” Gabrielle demanded. “Because I wasn’t QUITE able to...”

The warrior spun about and Gabrielle felt the tension and anger rolling off of her. So she was prepared for the growled snarl, but not its content.

“I WAS WRONG. I should have waited until I knew, I should have...” Xena looked to the stars above and searched for the words.

Touched and surprised, Gabrielle supplied them. “Believed in me?”

There was a short nod. “Yes. You’ve earned that.”

“Oh,” was all the girl could find to say.

The cart thundered along for a moment without any further words being spoken.

As the open gates of the city came into sight, Gabrielle remembered. “Xena, you don’t have to worry about whose side we’re on. I’ve got it all worked out. We can prove we’re enemies of Rukcal, and by that token, the enemy of my enemy is my...”

The warrior reached over and pulled Gabrielle to the front of the cart alongside her, and though her eyes were almost facing forward, the girl was still able to see them lit in the moonlight, as intense as ever, but with an openness she had only briefly perceived before. It took a moment, but when she spoke, Gabrielle could hear the difficulty she was having in addressing her. “Gabrielle. I thought, I thought my word was the most important thing I had.” The warrior paused and cleared her throat. “But I realised that it’s not nearly as important to me as you are.”

The wagon hit another rise, and Gabrielle waited until they were stable before carefully placing a hand on the arm of the troubled woman beside her. “Your word, your honour is not going to be sacrificed for me,” she pledged. “Ever. Do you understand?”

Xena turned to look into the girl’s eyes for one moment.

Right there, gripping on for dear life while being pursued by many times over a hundred men, they somehow lost themselves in each other’s regard. And when Xena finally broke away, Gabrielle was still in almost too much of a haze to recognise that there had been a blush on the warrior’s face before she turned aside.

Almost.

By the time the girl pulled her wits together, she detected a puzzled expression on the other woman’s face, and shouted above the noise “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Rukcal’s men.” Xena called back. “Why are they so disorganised? I expected half of his force would be on our tail by now.”

A wisecrack was about to burst from Gabrielle’s lips that it might be because the general was somewhat tied up at the moment, when she recognized that Xena was disappointed. “You expected this. You wanted this?” And embarrassment and comprehension swept her simultaneously. _‘Of course, Gabrielle, she expected this. Ares was right to play you. You were beginning to believe you could out plan the woman who nearly conquered Greece.’_ “This isn’t just a raid, is it? You’re luring them into a trap.”

Xena gave a curt nod. “With any luck we’ll take out half of his forces in a few minutes.”

“Take out? You mean kill.”

The blue eyes were colder now, evaluating her in a manner she did not like. “Yes, Gabrielle, kill. That’s what happens in war, remember?”

The bard shook her head. “No. It doesn’t have to. It’s not necessary... I have a plan...”

There was the barest beginnings of a dismissive head shake, which was halted before it was completed. “Okay. You have a plan?”

“Yes, and no one has to die. You’ve got to stop whatever you... We have to stop them!” she said urgently, then halted, remembering their circumstances. “I have to stop them.” She looked up to see a dubious expression on the warrior’s face. “Xena, you’re going to have to trust me.”

Gabrielle saw an uncharacteristic uneasiness pass over Xena’s face. “I trust you Gabrielle, but...”

“Then let me go. Let me try to stop them.” _Please Xena._

The warrior allowed a dozen variables to trip through her mind before asking, “You can let at least a few hundred of his men enter the gates?”

“If you prom..” The bard caught herself. This was not a negotiation. Trust had to go both ways. “Yes.”

There was only another second’s hesitation by the warrior before the decision was reached and then she was tugging the horses in and guiding them closer to the cart being drawn by Autolycus. With no sign of strain and still holding onto the reins, she bundled a surprised Gabrielle into her arms. The thief’s eyes widened as he became aware of their approach, and then grew even wider as he guessed the intent. He shouted to his companions, “Taking a passenger!” They had just one last shared minute as Autolycus drew alongside and matched their speed, while both tried to tell the other with their eyes everything they would not say, until with a careful toss, their connection was abruptly broken and she was flung into Salmakis’ awaiting arms.

“Welcome aboard!” the thief called out to her. “Staying awhile or do you have another cart you’d like to jump onto?”

Gabrielle thanked the blushing giant, and pulled her way to the front of the cart, trying not to trip on the large gunny sack rolling about on the floorboards. Autolycus shouted back over his shoulder. “Learn anything? Like whether she’s going to have to have us executed when we arrive?”

He waited for a reply but when he glanced back the bard seemed very involved in brushing herself off.

“Oh no. Gab...?” Auto was cringing inwardly.

The bard gave a weak smile. “Well, there’s good news, and there’s bad news. The good news is we’re on the same team again, but... only after we save that army behind that’s trying to kill us.”


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimers in Part I but nothings changed insofar as ownership of Xena, Gabrielle, or Ares.

Agathes: Head of the council of the besieged mining city of Namea, who blackmailed Xena to take an oath that she would fight all the cities enemies until she saw that General Rukcal was defeated.

General Rukcal: Leader of the forces besieging Namea, who has now been captured by Gabrielle.

Polybus: Ruler of Corinth, who along with his wife, encouraged Xena, Gabrielle and a certain friend, to attempt to negotiate a peace. Believing they have failed, he plans to wait for the right moment and sweep both opposition forces away and claim the silver rich mine and city for himself.

**In the Heart** **of the Siege**

**by Kamouraskan**

**Part VI**

 

_Your men were not crazy, your men were not mad_

_Your men were not deep in dispair-o_

_I deluded your sailors as well as your self_

_I’m a maiden again on the shore, shore shore_

_I’m a maiden again on the shore_

**_-A Maiden Alone On The Shore_ **

****

**Day 42: Before Sunrise**

Autolycus looked back towards the mob of crazed and enraged soldiers riding full bore after them, and then at the cloud of dust ahead that was all he could see of Xena now. “Stop that? Stop them by ourselves? Is this a test or something?”

Gabrielle put her palms to her temples to try to clear her mind. “This whole thing has been a test. And I am not gonna blow it all now.” She tried to concentrate again on the lessons she’d been given while traveling with Xena, and not on the unstable cracking of the floorboards as the cart had another bad bounce. Or especially on the rapidly growing distance between herself and her partner.

_“When you need a quick plan, first check out what assets and supplies you have around you and on hand.”_

She reopened her eyes and looked about. “Okay. We have one big asset.” All of their eyes were drawn to the gunny sack bouncing about in the centre of the wagon. “We have a king up our sleeve.”

“Or a General in a bag?” Autolycus asked.

He returned to trying to spur the horses to increase the insufficient gap between them and the army hounding them, and the other three hurriedly undid the sack, and pulled the gag out of the General’s mouth. All the while, Gabrielle tried to explain the situation in as few words as possible. “General, your men are being led into a trap; they’re all going to die unless you call them off.”

Rukcal glared at the girl and snickered. “I’d let’em all die rather than help you, bitch,” and spat into Gabrielle’s face.

Salmakis growled deep in his throat and she managed to stop him from smashing a burly fist into the general’s face. “He should’na done that,” the big man muttered.

Gabrielle pursed her lips and paused to think, then shrugged. “Hey, ignore the pansy. He’s just upset that a little girl took him out.”

Rukcal’s eyes bulged in anger. “WHAT? You struck me when my back was turned, you lying she-snake!”

The ‘little girl’ flexed her entwined fingers casually. “I just saved some time, and you from looking even more stupid.” Then she added for good measure, “Porky.”

She wasn’t surprised when a hand pulled her aside and Autolycus shouted into her ear, “Gabrielle, I’m sure what you’re doing makes perfect sense for some future part of _The Plan_ , but could we try just surviving until then?” he pointed to the walls which loomed directly ahead.

Behind them Rukcal had begun to struggle with his bonds, all while mouthing a series of obscenities aimed at Gabrielle and this time Salmakis did not hesitate.

The general’s head recoiled with the impact, and then lolled over, unconscious.

Gabrielle looked at Salmakis accusingly. The giant rubbed his knuckles, and mumbled, “Sorry, Gabrielle.”

Not ready to let the man off, she said “If I want you to hit someone, I’ll tell you, okay?”

The massive soldier grunted and nodded. “I gotcha.”

The last of Xena’s forces had passed through the walls by now, and Xena was not slowing or looking back as she headed for the gates as well. _‘Well, I wanted her to have confidence in me...’_ Gabrielle sighed to herself, before turning to her men. “Okay! Now what are we going to do, guys? Xena’s planned something to take out this whole force, and it’s probably gonna happen outside the city. So we can guess that we don’t want to be here for very long. We need to be inside the gates before whatever it is happens.”

Then the smell struck them all. They were close to the city now, and the scorched ground whizzing beneath them seemed to glisten in the moonlight. The scent was very familiar to Gabrielle.

_‘Alcohol and... the mine smelter!’_

“By the Gods...”

Ikaros became more worried as he saw her complexion pale. “What is it?”

One of the wheels caught and then released, throwing them across the cart. Grabbing hold to a support, Gabrielle tried to explain. “The ground smells like it’s soaked with the runoff from the smelter and mixed with pure alcohol. They’re going to close the gates, trapping those guys out here and throw torches on it. It’ll light like Greek fire, but I’ll bet when that stuff from the smelter burns, it’ll probably have even more of a kick.”

“This is the stuff they were going to make Xena drink that rots your brains?”

Gabrielle was staring about wide-eyed. “Yup.”

Auto looked to see the army closing in on them from the rear. “And we have to stay out here??”

“We’re not drinking it, so I don’t think it’ll be poisonous, but let’s not hang around too long. I could use some help, guys. Ideas? Any ideas? Now??”

Seeing blank faces surrounding her, she began to think outloud. “Okay. Now, we need a general, because this one doesn’t seem to work. We don’t have time to strip him of his clothes...”

“How’s about I hold him up, wave his arms?” Salmakis contributed.

“Do you know the command signals?” she asked.

The giant nodded.

“Okay, he may have to yell some orders too... Auto?”

“Lying she-snake!” he called over his shoulder in a fair imitation of Rukcal’s accent and speech

Ikaros raised his hand. “If they close the gates... will Xena make sure we can get in the doors even if we can stop them?” Both of the other men looked at him suspiciously. Gabrielle was nodding however.

“Ikaros is right. Xena wants at least a few hundred to get through the walls and she’s going to be too busy inside with them to stand about waiting for us. Someone’s gotta get to the door and make sure they hold it open for us.”

Auto said, diplomatically, “Gabrielle? Maybe you should be the one to do that?”

They hit another rise and for a second, the cart seemed about to overturn. When it settled they were all breathing heavily. Gabrielle shook her head “He’s still the fastest and I trust him. He’s proved himself, right?” There was a fast exchange of assents. She stumbled over to the runner. “Soon as we stop, you get to those gates, and you wedge yourself in there, and do NOT let them close those doors until we get through. Alright?” Ikaros’ eyes were gleaming as he gave his oath and she almost grinned at that. “Anyway,” she continued, “a commander is supposed to stay with her men, isn’t she?”           

Salmakis swallowed before declaring: “Only the best ones do.”

Gabrielle had only been joking when she’d called herself the commander, but Salmakis’ tone and the looks of the other two men shone with sincerity. Cursing her complexion for making her blush so visible, she ignored the compliment and plowed on. “Okay! Sounds like a plan. We stand him up and give the command to pursue until they accept us as the command vehicle. Then as soon as there’s any kind of a break or gap in the charge, we tell the rest of them to halt and to draw back. We can do this?”

Salmakis nodded with a grin. Gabrielle shook her clenched her fists in delight .Her enthusiasm had again caught them all. And with the four hundred soldiers bearing down on them, trapped in a wash of deadly poisons about to be set ablaze, they all locked forearms and the girl shouted exuberantly, “Let’s do it!”

Auto reined in the horses, Ikaros jumped off, and raced towards the open gates while the three left behind prepared for the approaching onslaught.

 

 

Gabrielle had been correct. As much as it tore at her, Xena had been forced to trust that the bard would figure out her own escape from the trap she had set for Rukcal’s men.

The main gate led to a horseshoe shaped inner courtyard surrounded by walls as high and as thick as those on the exterior of the walled city. There was only one passage out from it, and once she and her men had used it, it was firmly closed behind them. Xena had barely enough time to issue orders ensuring that their booty from the raid was being distributed and stored, before the first of Rukcal’s raiders streamed through the gates.

They mindlessly charged through in a retaliatory fury, powered by the thrill of finally entering their prize after a moon of fruitless attempts to breach this citadel. Their exhilarated whoops of victory were quickly stilled when they found themselves in an enclosed area surrounded by hundreds of archers on the walls above them. The attempt to disengage was futile; the continuing flow of more of their numbers through the doors made escape by that way impossible. As their mounts sensed the growing panic of their riders, the courtyard became a pit of confused and frightened men and horseflesh, especially when the great doors began to close. It was at this point that the archers were supposed to annihilate the men below at the moment of their greatest confusion, and then light the exterior wash to massacre and drive off any support. The bowmen waited for an order that didn’t come.

Xena had taken this first opportunity to race to the top of the walls, heartsick at what she might see.

To her enormous relief, and not a little pride, she saw that someone in the cart was giving orders to the remaining columns of the attack force that were withdrawing beyond the ground that had been covered with the incendiary broth.

Her comfort was short lived when she noticed that the cart was making a rather uneven course towards the gates, and that the passengers were weaving and waving in the back. ‘ _The fumes, Dammit, how long have they been breathing them?’_

But she wasn’t alone in her focus. Agathes arrived moments afterwards, his eyes wild with hostility. “Why haven’t you given the command to fire?” he demanded. “Why are those men withdrawing?” Then his eyes fell upon Gabrielle in the wagon as it neared them, and it was suddenly clear to him. “It’s that girl! You couldn’t do it, could you? So much for your so called sacred honour!”

It was strange, Xena thought. She could almost identify with his disappointment. In one raid she would have halved her opposition, destroyed their morale, and provided enough food to hold a celebration feast amongst her own people. In one single stroke she had completely overturned the momentum of the siege. That hundreds would have died did not cause her any anguish. They were soldiers and she had simply out thought them in order for her side to prevail. Not too long ago she would have found great pleasure in that. She preferred winning to say the least.

All it required was that she not care about what one particular person thought about her, and that was suddenly too high a price for her to pay.

Right now she had to deal with a nearly out of control Agathes. She tried to calm the politician. “Gabrielle’s not our enemy. She’s coming in here to solve this mess.”

Agathes let out a barking laugh. “Not our enemy? Since when? She’s certainly mine, and as long as I lead...”

Xena didn’t need to hear anymore and she cut him off. “You lead nothing here. I’m in command of the army, and I say she enters in safety, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Oh, I can do one thing.” He backed up several feet and snatched a burning torch, and moved to the edge of the wall to drop it onto the flammable ground below. He stayed there, one arm holding it, dangling it carelessly. Xena found herself unable to breathe, or even think. Gabrielle and her men were still minutes from reaching the safety of the gate, their disorientation slowing them down.

“Who’s in charge now, Xena? What are you going to do? Throw your chakram? Make it rain? You come even one step closer I’ll drop this. Once I do, she’s dead. Now give the order to kill the men in the courtyard.”

“No.”

“What don’t you understand, Xena?”

“You don’t understand her. Gabrielle wouldn’t trade her life for two hundred others and I won’t make that decision for her. So you might as well give me the torch.” She moved towards him slightly, but he held the torch out further until she stopped.

“You don’t want to do this, Agathes,” she threatened. “I know that whatever Gabrielle has planned will be what’s best for everyone involved. It will save the lives of your people.” She again moved stealthily towards him, growling, “and you don’t want to have to face me afterwards.”

Again Agathes laughed, still holding the torch out over the walls. Xena halted again, drawing on all of her discipline to not let her mounting fear show in her eyes.

Agathes shook his head, while continuing to grin maniacally. “Face you? Face YOU? I face you every day Xena. I KNOW who you are. The almost unbeaten warlord, until you met up with this chit. Do you really think I care about people? I don’t delude myself. No, I AM you. Selfish and without any scruples as long as what I plan will work. That’s what I learned from your record as a warlord. You never worried about another soul in your career, and that’s what made you a success. Once you started to, it destroyed you. I’m not that foolish or self-defeating. I’ll do what’s best for me, for ME. And killing that little bitch is what I want to do right now. She’s your weakness, not mine. She has to die and you can’t stop me.”

And he dropped the torch over the walls.

As her horror stricken eyes watched the small ball of fire drift and float towards the sleek and oily ground, saw Gabrielle still in the centre of what would be an inferno in seconds, she hesitated not a instant. She hauled up Agathes, not giving him even the time to cry out, and threw him as hard as she could after the torch, hoping that its light weight and resistance to the air would slow it down.

It hit the earth first, and immediately a flame leapt from the ground about it, when Agathes’ body smashed on top, smothering both flame and torch instantly.

Gabrielle and her wagon continued on without noticing, and Xena slumped her shoulders. She didn’t even look up when she felt an itching sensation about her neck. “Ares?” she ground out.

The God of War was lounging in the crenellation. He gave a moment’s glance downward to the broken body below and grinned.

 

“Gee. Looks like he snuffed it.”

 

_They had not sailed a league a league_

_A league but barely three_

_Until she espied his cloven foot_

_And she wept right bitterlie_

**_-The Demon Lover_ **

 

**Day 42: Sunrise**

All Xena wanted was to race to the gate where Gabrielle and her men were arriving, but she knew that Ares was a potential obstacle to any solution Gabrielle might have. So she fought the urge, and asked almost casually, “You’re in a good mood. Somebody set fire to an orphanage nearby?”

The God of War dramatically clutched his chest. “Oh, I’m hurt.”

Xena didn’t take her eyes off the cart that was still weaving about in the general direction of the gate. “Look, I’m a little busy right now. Unless you have something you wanted to say...?”

“I admit I’m a bit curious. Didn’t you just break your word?” he said, pointing to the corpse below.

Xena was dismissive. “The moment Agathes said he was out for himself, and that he didn’t care about Gabrielle’s peace plan, he became an enemy of the City.”

Ares shrugged. “Well, I just thought I should drop by and tell you how I misjudged your little partner there. I especially like the present she has for you.”

“Oh?”

“A gift wrapped General Rukcal. Couldn’t have done better myself. Can’t wait to see what she gets you for Solstice. Now all you have to do is jump down there, challenge him to the usual, swish, plop, his men are yours, and you... you have two pretty well intact armies under your command.”

She stood and faced him directly. “I’m not interested in going to war.”

Ares waved his hand confidently. “Oh I’m sure you don’t want to. But have you spoken to Polybus about this lately? ‘Cause I think he definitely has some plans along those lines. And last I checked, you were on opposite sides.”

“You’re skipping ahead as usual, Ares. Agathes wasn’t entirely stupid. The oath he made me swear was that until I **_saw_** that Rukcal was defeated, I would fight all their enemies. He didn’t want me taking any short cuts like slipping past the blockade at night and personally killing the General. So if that was all, I think we’re done here.” She turned away from the God and began to make her way to the courtyard gate.

Ares called after her. “Why do things get so complicated with you? At least I’m not the only one who misunderstood. Blondie is going to be so disappointed that you don’t want to kill her gift.”

Xena called back, “You still don’t get her, do you? She knows exactly what my oath was. If there’s one thing Gabrielle doesn’t misunderstand, it’s words.” And as she spoke, she realised what Gabrielle might have in mind, and her heart trembled for a moment, and her feet picked up speed.

 

Gabrielle was feeling just great. Sure the blurred vision was a little irritating, but she and Autolycus and the boys were having a fine old time. Maybe there had been a bit of a tussle at the gate, but Ikaros had kept his promise and they were able to ride in, cart and all, singing this great song about eating oysters that the men seemed to think was hilarious. They had just finished the song as they rode blissfully unaware into the tension and silence that was the potential slaughterhouse. Unconcerned, her eyes swept the upper walls looking for a certain leather clad figure.

She whistled. “Honey? I’m hoooooome.” She was vaguely aware of the reaction she was getting from both the archers in the parapets and the men trapped on the ground with her. She gave them all a brilliant smile and said, “Why...? Are you all so... tense?” She looked at her guys for comprehension, but they were gaping inanely at something directly behind her.

She felt the presence, even before the hand was placed on her shoulder.

“Gabrielle?”

She turned around unsteadily to look into the concerned blue eyes and almost giggled. Xena took one hand and carefully tilted the head back to look at the bard’s dilated pupils, but the girl pulled away drunkenly. “Hey sweetie, that can wait. Look what I got!” She reached over and tried to haul the still groggy general to his feet, tugged a few more times unsuccessfully and muttered, “Maybe I should have gotten it in a small.” This drew a laugh from her team as they clumsily tried to disembark from the wagon, before realizing it was slowly being encroached.

Though Gabrielle was completely unaware of the strain all around her, Xena wasn’t. She barked out to the soldiers, “The first man who moves any closer, just moves one more footstep this way, will have a dozen arrows sticking out of his chest. Got me?” They backed away immediately and Xena again tried to examine her partner, her manner a complete contrast. “Gabrielle, how are you feeling, are you okay?”

There was a familiarity about how Gabrielle felt, and she tried to chase it through the haze in her mind. “You know, I feel just like when, you remember... Hey! You promised you’d kill me if you ever saw me take any more drugs.”

“And I may still do that, Gabrielle. I think you had a plan, Remember?”

“Oh yeah.... by the Gods. That stuff outside, I’m really woozy...”She swayed slightly, and Xena guided her to a sitting position. “I’m sorry, Xena.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

It was the dual apologies that finally brought it home to the warrior. What was she doing? This was a critical moment with hundreds of lives in the balance. Somewhere Ares skulking about, two different armies outside waiting for a signal to begin an assault on the city, and she was standing right in the middle of enemy soldiers who had nothing to lose by attacking her. Yet all she wanted to do was wrap this one woman in a blanket of lamb’s wool and coddle her until she was alright again. She didn’t have the time for this! And in a further bout of irrationality, she decided instead to make some.

She scanned the crowd, satisfied when they all eventually succumbed to her most intimidating glare, and called to her assistants. “Andronicus. Arrian. Our guests look a little uncomfortable with all those weapons on. I want twenty men, now, to help with their surrender.”

She moved to the front of the broken down cart, though considering her poise and attitude, it might as well have been the podium at the Coliseum, and addressed the men about her.

“If you hadn’t already figured it out, we could have killed you all the moment you rode in. Instead, you’re getting one chance to honorably surrender and live. Dismount, and drop your weapons. And remember every archer on the wall above you is a hired marksman.”

She looked through the crowd, looking for any resistance, but once the first weapons belts were unstrapped, and her men were there to segregate the men and their mounts, it was clear things were under control. She had bought her interval and was free to devote her attention once more to where she admitted she wanted it to be.

“Come on, “ she urged as she pulled the bard upright again. “Time to sober up.”

There was a soft sigh that Xena felt run through her. “Xena?”

“Yes, Gabrielle.”

“Remember when I told you that you were beautiful?”

Her face fought the grin that threatened to spread over it. “Uh huh. But you were as doped up then as you are now.”

There was an insulted harumph. “My opinion didn’t come from the henbane. Just the nerve to tell you.” Gabrielle glanced up quickly and was rewarded by seeing another rare blush. Unlike Xena, she didn’t bother to hide her delight. ‘ _Heh. I can do that. Amazing.’_

“Gabrielle? This really isn’t the time.” And Xena saw the bright eyes nearly fill with tears

“It never is.”

Rolling her eyes and resisting the urge to yank some of her own hair out, she said, “We’ll talk later, I promise. But right now, you and I have got to focus.”

Gabrielle leaned into the warrior, resting her head against the breast plate. “Could we put that off for a day or two? I mean, we have a while before Polybus arrives, right?”

Xena fought the urge to kiss the top of the head nestled against her and pushed her partner back gently to speak directly to her. “Gabrielle. If Polybus told everyone he could be here in four days, it means he could do it in three, maybe less. If he just brought cavalry, he could be on the outskirts right now. And Rukcal’s men aren’t going to wait outside for much longer either.”

That caught hold. The girl shook her head to try to clear it, and when it seemed to work, gave her partner a grim smile. “Then I better sober up, get this show on the road, right?”

Though surprised by the quick recovery, the warrior nodded and yelled across the courtyard. “Water, lots of fresh water. Now.”

Most of Rukcal’s soldiers were now against the far walls, and their horses were being led into the vault to be taken to the stables. So a soldier was free to fill a bucket and haul it over. She reached over the sides of the cart and splashed some on Gabrielle’s face before offering her some to drink.

The green eyes seemed to further clear, and the bard stretched her shoulders experimentally before taking the bucket herself and dumping the rest of the contents on the still comatose Rukcal. He spluttered a few times but subsided upon seeing Xena.

“You’re going to fight Rukcal yourself.” Xena stated flatly.

Gabrielle didn’t back down. “You okay with that?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

“You going to stop me? Or are you going to cheer for me?”

There was no answer.

Rukcal was still staring at Xena with wide eyes. Gabrielle picked up her staff and tapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t look at her, Porky. This is between you and me. You were talking some pretty nasty talk earlier on, so it’s time to see if you can back it up. She’s just here to observe with her men, right, Xena?”

Xena had been lost in her memories of a younger Gabrielle crocked on henbane, and was startled by the sudden retransformation into this serious woman who was prepared to kill for her. The change in manner was so abrupt that it was painful in a way that Xena wasn’t prepared for.

When Xena didn’t respond to her question, Gabrielle turned, and looked up into her eyes, shocked to see the anguish in her partner’s face. Knowing from experience that a simple ‘what’s wrong?’ would never get any answer from her, she tried to analyse what could be disturbing her first before asking anything. _‘She was relaxed and smiling in the midst of all the tension, and that hasn’t changed, but when I got down to business all of sudden she... Oh._ ’ She directed Auto and Ikaros to revive the General and pulled the stiff dark woman aside.

“Xena?” she whispered. She cocked her head slightly and waited until she had all of the warrior’s attention. “I’m not that addled kid anymore. And I’m good with that.”

Xena’s response was just as quiet, but there was a melancholy in it as well. “I know.”

There was this speech that Gabrielle had practiced in her head night after night, waiting for the perfect moment that never seemed to come. And here was her chance to say it, and once again it wasn’t appropriate. But her frustration had grown with time, and possibly with the fumes still in her brain she decided to Tartarus with their audience. She was aware of the crowds and tried to strip it to the essentials. Would Xena understand?

Strangely enough despite the situation, or maybe because of their being the centre of all that attention, Gabrielle felt as though her heart was beating in sync with Xena’s.

As if to confirm her instincts, the sunrise chose that moment to peek over the walls, and it occurred to her, that just as the sun rose in brilliant glory, it was time to acknowledge a dawning truth.

Drawing a deep breath, she began, “We... we have a job to do.” ‘ _and_ _not just here and now...’_ she tried to say with her eyes.

In the same manner, Xena muttered, “I didn’t... I don’t want this... for you.” And she also saw that Gabrielle understood. That she was not referring to this fight, but who Gabrielle was and what their relationship was becoming.

Deciding that any further public display was inappropriate, Gabrielle barely brushed the older woman’s knuckles with her own, saying, “I chose this. And I don’t regret it.” But she could see that wasn’t enough, so she continued. “It’s...important.” And Gabrielle spread her hands out to convey more than just the immediate situation, or the people around them. Or even what they felt or who they were, and what they were now becoming.

Xena only saw those green eyes, glowing with a fierce pride, and she could feel their combined strength in that moment. A force that was greater than all of the soldiers in this courtyard. Even greater than every conceivable death that might be waiting for the two of them.

Gabrielle saw the jumble of the emotions passing through the warrior; her acceptance, finally, that there would be no Academy of Bards, no handsome farmer boy and happy children for Gabrielle, and that conflicting knowledge was more then even the hardened warlord could handle. But it didn’t matter because they also felt the joy and power that was certainly no less then the danger that lay ahead of them.

If only for that instant they knew without any doubt what it was they had suspected separately for some time; that they had found what each had been searching for. For the battered warlord; a reason to rise each morning. And for the changeling daughter from Potadaia, a place she finally belonged.

There was no need for an outward acknowledgment, but Xena needed more. So ignoring all that was about her, Xena held the bard in her arms for one sweet moment before they separated. The warlord’s mask took a moment to pull back on, but Xena managed, it, and then they addressed each other somewhat more professionally.

“Your show, Gabrielle.”

“So let’s do it.”

There was a slight nod, and Gabrielle put her hands on her hips and strode the few feet between her and where the general was still calmly waiting. She chose her favorite Xena grin to give to him.

“So, you want a piece of me?”

Rukcal lay back, seemingly comfortable. “You think I’m going to fight you like some bear in a circus?”

“No. I don’t think you’re going to lie there while your men watch. I think you’re going to stand and try to show your men that you can swat me like a fly.” She prodded him in the crotch with her staff. “And then I’m gonna swat you.”

Only then did the General become aware of the expressions on his own troops; many wore mixed emotions and disconcerted faces. Under their stares he raised himself up and drew his sword. Gabrielle shifted her shoulders and gripped her staff. Without looking about she ordered, “Everybody out of the cart, except for him and me.” She felt the shift in weight as Ikaros and Auto followed her order, but Xena remained on board. Gabrielle turned slightly, keeping one eye on the general and was prepared to begin to lecture her partner when she saw her expression. One she remembered from not too long ago. The same one Xena had worn when a little girl had rushed to stand between her and the mob from her hometown gathered to stone her. Knowing that the general would never move against her while Xena was in the cart, she escorted her gently towards the ramp.

“Gabrielle...?”

“Shush. We’ll talk later, I’m...busy. You know how it is, right?”

“Yeah,” the warrior smiled sadly. “I do.”

“You watch with your men, otherwise you might want to get involved. That’s against the rules, right?”

Another grim smile. “Still looking out for my honour, aren’t you? I told Ares you would never be confused about words.”

“Nope. Words are almost as important to me as deeds.”

Gabrielle watched as the walls went up, the face and stature straightened, and the Warrior Princess left her alone with her opponent.

Now she and her antagonist were alone in the battered wooden cart, the remaining side railings splintered and broken. Exactly as though they were on stage, in the centre of the yard.

The general began moving towards her, and in the small confines of the cart Gabrielle had nowhere to go.

Xena took a seat above the courtyard and tried her best to judge the two opponent’s stances impartially. She noted that her partner was waiting as always for the first strike, but clearly the general was unsure of exactly what to expect and was also waiting.

His own inaction under the eyes of his men obviously was getting to him, and he waved his sword with menace and blustered to fill the silence. “I’m going to skin you, girl, you know that?”

Gabrielle twirled her staff to force him back a foot, and said “Nope. I don’t know that. I do know that I already fooled you at least, what... Twice?” Rukcal growled and raised his sword, testing her boundaries.

“Did you know...” Gabrielle was speaking to the crowd now, “that he wouldn’t stop his own men from riding into this trap? Why was that, General?”

Gabrielle was finally rewarded with a ponderous forward thrust which she countered easily, almost disarming the general in that first stroke. Now Rukcal resembled a bull pawing on the ground, so eager was he to tear into the girl in front of him.

“I’ve been playing him like a puppet,” Gabrielle continued speaking to the crowd, goading him further. “In fact, when he refused to save his guys, we had to knock him out and he WAS a puppet. Proving anybody can be useful.”

Another mindless lunge, and again she slipped past.

She laughed and that brought the general into action. The girl dropped low and heard the hiss of the sword above her, and then the curse as she slammed her staff into his ribs. Instead of making him cautious, he spun about and tried a downward slicing motion that would have been effective if the bard had been still standing there. Somehow she had squirted up beside him and as he tried to switch hands, she centred her grip on her stave and chopped down on his loosened grip, and then reversed to strike his skull. Stunned, he dropped his sword, and staggering, rushed her again, hoping to use his weight and the confining space to knock her over. Once more, she evaded him, and when he tried to spin to follow her, she tripped him up and he fell heavily. _She wasn’t even winded,_ he thought, as she stood over him, eyes flashing, one foot and her staff keeping him where he was.

Gabrielle was disappointed. It had been easy. Too easy, and it wouldn’t be enough to convince the men surrounding her to follow her, she knew. Angry at the man for not making it more of a contest, she snarled, “Do you concede to me?”

There was only an angry rumble in response, until the staff pressed deeper into his throat. “I’m not going to kill you, General. But I will keep making you suffer until you concede. How long that will take is up to you.”

There was finally a furious swallow, and a grunted, “You will pay for this.”

Gabrielle used one of Xena’s favorite lines, and was happy that she wasn’t there to hear it come from her peace loving bard.

“Get in line.”

High above, Xena was waiting for the concession from Rukcal, but even as he spoke the words, Xena had become aware that Ares was nearby. Using his power to influence... not her this time, but someone... As the General began to stutter out the words that might give Gabrielle command, Xena saw Ares motioning and whispering behind several archers. Who, to her horror, began to lower their bows to point at the bard and Rukcal.

Then she realised she was frozen in place. Paralyzed. As if every muscle in her body was fighting itself.

Smiling, Ares appeared beside her. “Sorry Princess, but I decided I better do something to get things back on track here. It was too good a chance to miss.”

Somehow she was able to force words out of her mouth. “Don’t do this, Ares.” If he wanted her to beg, she would. “Please.”

For a moment she saw that her plea had affected him, but he shook his head instead. “Sorry Xena. But she’s served her purpose. It just works too well for me. With both her and Rukcal dead, this place will break out into complete pandemonium. You’ll have to stop it. You’ll have to take command of both armies. And you were right about Polybus, He’s just about ready to launch his attack. You’ll have no time to think about anything except defending against him or all these people will die. And any anger or hatred you feel against me, I can take. As long as I have my Chosen back.” He paused. “Or of course, you could...”

She would have shaken her head, but that was beyond her, but she put as much force into her words as she was capable of doing. “NO. I will never go back to you.”

“Just say the words, Xena, and the little bard can live. Say you’ll come back to me...”

“No, Ares. I promised.”

The God of War shrugged. “Then you made a promise to a dead girl. Either way, I get you back.”

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on just moving her hand. Tried to inch it slowly towards her chakram. She had moved her arm barely an inch when she heard the arrows release, and cinching her eyes even tighter, heard the distinctive sound of them entering two human bodies.


	7. Chapter 7

_“O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills,_

_That the sun shines sweetly on?”_

_“O yon are the hills of heaven,” he said_

_Where you will never win.”_

“ _O whaten mountain is yon,” she said_

_“All so dreary wi frost and snow?”_

_“O yon is the mountain of hell,” he cried_

_“Where you and I will go.”_

**_-The Demon Lover_ **

 

**Day 42 of the Siege of Namea: After Sunrise**

The scream began somewhere deep inside of her heart and expanded to a brutal rupturing that seemed to shred her soul. But all that escaped from her lips was a soft, trembling, “No.”

Her eyes still squeezed shut, she heard Gabrielle’s cry of surprise from somewhere inside the pit that she seemed encased in, followed immediately by the cracking of the railing of the cart as her bard’s body struck it and pitched over side. It was hard for her to tell what was real; it had somehow become mixed with her memories of herself as a teenaged girl, watching her brother die in front of her.

Helpless. Completely helpless.

Drawing on all of her discipline, determined to face what she was sure she already knew, she opened her eyes. Yes, there was the general lying still, two arrows piercing his chest, inches apart. That would have been the harder of the shots, she knew. Her expert marksmen could not have missed the bard upright and facing them, and she did not know if she could bear to see what lay on the ground on the far side of the wagon.

‘No...’

“ **NO! NO! NO!”** Ares’ cry of exasperation stunned her before she realised what it might mean. Suddenly she was free from his paralysis, and she vaulted over the wall, not even thinking of what was her next point of landing. She heard him muttering behind her in frustration. “There is no WAY he could have moved that fast. Who is watching over her? This is so WRONG!!!”

As she descended, she suddenly remembered the archers above her, and saw that several were staring at their bows with bewildered looks. She reached down to grip her chakram, and shouted to them, “The men who loosed those arrows are to be put under guard, and will be taken immediately to my quarters to wait there.” She raised her chakram. “The next man who even thinks of shooting at anything without my direct order will taste this across his throat... after it’s worked its way up. Everybody got that?” She waited. “Good.”

She arrived on the ground out of breath, panting slightly, to see Gabrielle struggling under and partially covered by a huge soldier. She was so gratified, her smile was as broad as anytime in her memory. Her happiness was so great that she didn’t immediately notice that Gabrielle was in tears, tugging vainly at the large man.

“Salmakis... hey, Sal...?” The bard looked to her with a face that pleaded to be told what she wanted to hear. “Xena?”

The warrior rallied quickly and knelt to the ground to carefully lift the man onto his side, and allow Gabrielle to slide out from under him. Salmakis made a slight hissing noise in pain, but otherwise seemed unconscious. The arrows had entered deep into his back, and at least one was obviously a mortal wound.

“Is there...?” The bard asked hopelessly.

Xena shook her head and Gabrielle lowered hers. She felt a pang of jealousy as Autolycus and Ikaros each took one of the bard’s hands and the three of them formed a circle exclusive of her around the dying man. She looked about for something that needed her attention, even though she knew she could not drag herself away from this place. The upper walls and windows were filling with townspeople, but all were silent.

The bard broke loose from Ikaros, and seized her bracer, asking, “Why?”

The warrior refused to show how her powerlessness had affected her, and only shrugged. “Ares. He thought I would go to him if you died. He must have ...”

Gabrielle could not listen, turned to try to make the dying man more comfortable, and her tears continued to fall. Xena was still awash with such relief that Gabrielle was alive, that it was impossible for her to feel the immense gratitude she knew she should for this man’s act of sacrifice. So her explanation was probably only a half heard mumble to the ears of the devastated girl. “Ares thought if you... he thought I would have to take command, he didn’t know...” ‘ _He didn’t know that I wouldn’t have been able to raise my own hand, much less an army if you had died._ ’

Again Gabrielle looked at her through sodden eyes. “I have to...” and she waved her hand at the army and the total sum of the task she still had to complete. “I don’t know if I.. How can I? Who is going to follow me now?”

Her question was answered by a gruff voice at her feet. “I would. To Tartarus and back.”

“Salmakis?”

The giant tried to raise his head, but his three companions stopped him. He looked about at each of them, before finally settling his eyes on the young blonde.

“Why you being so sad? This ain’t a bad way to go... and you, you gat an army to command, don’t ya?” He winced before continuing, his breathing a wheezing that seemed to vibrate through the arrows in his back. Gabrielle tried to shush him but he shook her off. “I got some time here. Let me say what I gotta say.” She nodded and waited. “During your fight jus’ now. Me an Ikaros were telling the lads back there what you done. Talking you up.... I trained most of em... Told em, ‘This lady, she’s the real thing. You’re in a right mess now,’ I said, ‘and yer only hope is to have her stand before you wit the dark one here. She’ll do you right.’” His face clenched in pain and Gabrielle clutched his hand. “So you get your face all washed up. Show them I wasn’t a liar, quick, okay?”

Xena thought she heard a broken thank you from Gabrielle but wasn’t sure.

“It all worked out like the Gods musta wanted. I was supposed to die for killing that sonofabitchin commander, but they let me stay... so I could save a real one.” He smiled at her. “I got no regrets. No more. So you don’t neither. Okay?” Gabrielle nodded. The words came slower now, and she had to lean over to hear them. “I got an extra day... to, to do one... very important thing.”

And then the stillness entered him.

Gabrielle raised herself and covered her face with her hands. She stood there alone and Xena awkwardly moved towards her, not sure what to do when she got there. The bard looked up and the warrior was surprised to see that her eyes were angry. “Xena? Is this what it takes? To constantly shove all these feelings into some hole just to keep going on? Is that what it’s like for you?” she demanded.

The warrior bit her lip, but was compelled to answer. “Yes.”

Gabrielle shook her head. “How can you...?”

There was no movement of the stoic face and she only said, “I don’t know.”

But she thought _: ‘There is so little about myself I understand anymore, Gabrielle. I only know, I know that the only truth I have found in any of this... has been you. I have no right to ask this of you, but please don’t quit now, Gabrielle. Please.’_

Gabrielle had been silent as though listening, as if the words had been spoken out loud. She nodded and picked up her staff. With all eyes on her, she carefully rinsed her face from a waterskin handed to her by a restrained Autolycus, and then walked slowly over to face the soldiers held against the walls. Xena could only stand and watch as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

“Listen up. I’m the only chance you have to get out of here alive. In fact I think I can do better than that. But if I start negotiating, I want it understood I’m in command for now. You got that?”

Each man looked up at the archers poised above them, and grunted or nodded assent.

Gabrielle waited before speaking again. “Okay. First thing.” She move back to where Xena was waiting over the body of the giant, and reached down to touch Salmakis gently, but when she stood, her eyes were still clear. “This man was offered a commutation of a death sentence if he volunteered and succeeded in a mission under my command. He not only succeeded, but gave his life to save the life of his commander. I order that he be...” she looked to Xena who whispered into her ear for a moment...“reinstated to full rank, and receive all privileges due him. His family will be notified that he died with honour.” She stared about waiting for a challenge. Instead the there were nods and smiles from the men in front of her. She continued more confidently. “The same applies to the other two men released, and they are now assigned as my Aides de Camp.

“Now. Who’s the senior officer?”

One of the older men looked about and above again before stepping forward. “I am.”

“Your name?”

“Porlus, Ma’am.”

“Okay, Porlus. We’re all getting out of this, I promise.” She received a nod, and then the girl turned to face Xena. She spoke formally, all too aware of the watchers and her rank.

“Xena. Rukcal has been defeated, and you watched as it was done. You are freed from your oath honorably. But you are in command of this fortress. As the commander of these men, I have a list of demands before we surrender.”

Surprised at the presumption, Xena spoke loudly, also aware of the crowd listening. “Demands? And why are you in the position to make demands?” _Come on. Gabrielle, you’ve thought this out, I know you have. I would have._

The bard smiled grimly. “There are still eight hundred men outside, waiting to storm this place. I am effectively in command of them as well. AND... Polybus and his army from Corinth are about to arrive. Instead of prisoners to deal with, you could have allies supporting you. I think it makes sense that you grab your alliances as fast as they are offered.”

“Let’s see these...” and Xena dragged out the pause, “demands... first.”

“Okay.” Gabrielle reached inside her ever-present scroll case, and pulled out a crisp sheet of parchment.

Xena quickly scanned it and looked up with a small grin. “Gabrielle, this is a treaty.”

The grin was returned. “It is, isn’t it?”

“But I’m the military commander. A treaty has to be ratified by the Council.”

Gabrielle’s face dropped, and they both looked to the quickly rising sun and the passage of time it represented.

 

 

_If she tells me she can't, I'll reply_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Let me know that at least she will try_

_And then she'll be a true love of mine_

**_-Scarborough Fair_ **

**Day 42 Before Noon**

“We can’t allow the price of silver to be dropped for Corinth!”

Xena listened in amazement and frustration as the council elders raged. “If we reduce it for them, we’d have to do it for all the other states and customers. The price of silver would drop, and there would be all sorts of economic repercussions for the entire region!”

Only her respect for Gabrielle stopped Xena from pouncing down on the man and illustrating exactly what repercussions a sharp blade could produce. She tried not to pace as she watched the sun rise higher in the sky.

“We don’t have to lower the overall price.” Gabrielle spoke evenly, somehow hiding her own anxiety and impatience. “It can be a fee for the protection of the City by Corinth, and will be made up in the savings from not having to hire the mercenaries anymore.”

“But you have all these pay outs to be made to these common soldiers. Where is that money coming from?”

Gabrielle looked over to the thief who was nodding off in a corner. “Autolycus?”

The thief blinked twice. “Wha...?”

“The payments.”

Shaking off his lethargy, the Thief ambled to the table. “Oh. Right. I was sort of hoping you might have forgotten.” He addressed the council with his customary insouciance. “Gabrielle noticed that the mines and smelters were working throughout the siege, and smart lady that she is, wondered where the ingots were going when there was nothing to buy with them. So I looked around, and whadya know, I found three large chests, each with about one hundred thousand dinars worth of silver bars locked up in Agathes’ rooms.”

Gabrielle added, “and that’s what we’re going to pay off the mercenaries on both sides with.”

“That money is ours!” shouted the Council Elder in consternation.

Jumping into action was a relief to Xena. Her stress-taut muscles smoothly responded and she was beside the councilor in a heartbeat. “What don’t you understand about the situation we’re all in? That you have hundreds of soldiers ready to take this money from your dead hands? That it’s all extra that you never knew you had? That we already have it in our possession? That time is running out and you’re sitting here TALKING?”

She released the man who slumped slightly before whining, “possibly a few soldiers may take the coin and leave. But the rest will simply use it to buy trash and drink it away.”

Gabrielle leaned close to the man. “And where are the nearest shops and taverns they’ll be spending it in?”

Illumination came to all at the table, and the elder reached for the scroll and quill.

As soon as all the signatures were affixed, Xena stopped for a second, and stared with undisguised admiration at one of the copies, and then at her partner. “This is quite the document, Gabrielle. Well done.”

The bard blushed slightly and grinned. “Xena. I’m used to negotiating for a room and bath for one dinar. The day I can’t broker a peace with the backing of a warrior princess, fourteen hundred soldiers and three chests of silver, you should trade me in.”

Before Xena could retort, there was a call from the lookout on the upper wall.

“Commander?” Both Gabrielle and Xena looked up. “Xena.” He clarified. “I can see a mist outside settling on the valley. I’ve never seen one so thick, or in the day like this. It’s making it impossible to see and the men outside are growing restless.”

Alarmed, Gabrielle stared at Xena who voiced what they both were thinking. “Then Polybus won’t be able to see a flag of truce, will he?”

And both said simultaneously, “Ares.”

 

_O whaten mountain is yon,” she said_

_“All so dreary wi frost and snow?”_

_“O yon is the mountain of hell,” he cried_

_“Where you and I will go.”_

 

” _He struck the tap-mast wi his hand_

_The foremast wi his knee,_

_And he broke that gallant ship in twain,_

_And sank her in the sea._

**_-The Demon Lover_ **

**Day 42: After Noon**

 

Xena tilted her head and shouted out to the empty space in front of her. “Ares? Come on out! You know I can smell you.”

Immediately, he materialized in front of her, grinning derisively. “You must have known this wasn’t over.”

Xena didn’t take the time to respond. She simply drew her sword, and calculated the distance between them. “Come a little closer, Ares.”

Ares only smiled and drew his own sword, and they prepared to face off.

“You bastard,” she spat. “You went waaaay over the line this time.”

Ares made a show of concern. “There’s a line? Really? That’s strange. I thought I was... a God?”

“A God who failed. Again. If I were you I’d wonder about why that keeps happening. I’d even wonder if you were making someone mad.”

There was a flicker of real concern on the war god’s face, but it quickly disappeared as the two began their dance. The room was far too small for much maneuvering, and it was with one eye to the walls that they began to circle each other.

Then both surged forward with a clash of steel above their heads, and another at mid level. They held their swords in that position for a moment, wrists straining, and Ares said, “You’re wasting time, Xena. And you need to save your strength for the battle.” Xena said nothing. Merely disengaged, spun and just missed the God with a murderous kick. Ares continued to speak as if they were having a quiet tea. “You know Polybus is about to charge down those hills with that absolutely superb army of his.”

Another kick, this one connecting, but the War God simply flipped and moved forward unruffled.

Gabrielle appeared in the doorway. “It won’t happen, Ares.”

Both pulled back, and Ares rested his sword casually against one leg, smirking. “Oh yes, _The Partner._ You know, I don’t mind that you two are...” He fluttered the fingers on one hand, “whatever you are. Because this time it works for me.” He raised his sword and pointed at the scowling warrior across from him. “See, what Xena would like to do is run that message over to Polybus all by herself, but you...” indicating Gabrielle, “wouldn’t let her take that risk, would you? And Xena won’t do the smart thing and just knock you on the head, because now she wants to show she _respects you_.” The sarcasm dripped from his words. “And neither of you will allow the other to go alone without a complement of soldiers because you might have to fight Polybus in full assault. And Polybus won’t listen to anybody other than you two. So this wonderful irony occurs. In order to make peace, you’ll have to bring an army. And arrive too late. The armies will meet,” he clapped his hands together, and Gabrielle involuntarily jumped, “and you two will have the chance to respect each other right into the grave. And I’ll be watching. Waiting for one of you to say those wonderful words,” he switched to a falsetto, “‘ARES! Save her!’ And I will. And you will pay my price.” He stepped back and sheathed his sword. “Or I’ll just have to watch you both die in the midst of all that wonderful carnage.”

And he shimmered and was gone

There was silence for a moment before Gabrielle spoke.

“So you going to knock me out or tie me up?”

“Gabrielle.”

“No. He was right about being forced to take a regiment with us, but that’s all he was right about.”

There was no reply from the warrior. Gabrielle reached over to lay a hand on Xena’s shoulder. “Do you believe we can reach Polybus before he launches an all out offensive?”

“No.” The word was stark in its unremitting honesty. “But you believe it.”

Gabrielle waited for some further statement of assurance, but none was forthcoming.

“So we aren’t going alone,” Xena pronounced.

“Nope. I wouldn’t let you go alone.”

“AND... we can’t leave the town undefended because there’s sure to be a Corinthian advance squad in the woods just waiting for the city to be left undefended, so MY men will have to stay...”

Gabrielle blinked. “Oh! So we have to take MY men. I’d better... mustard? them or whatever you call it?”

There was a slight twitch of the warrior’s lips. “Muster.”

 

****

_5)Peace Good Judge, sweet Lord Judge_

_Peace for just a while_

_I think I see my Lover_

_Riding by the stile_

_A little of your gold, my Love_

_And likewise of your fee_

_To save my body from yonder grave_

_and my neck from the hangman’s tree’_

_“All of my gold now shall you have_

_And likewise of my fee_

_For I have come to see you saved_

_And Saved you shall be”_

**_-A Maid Saved From Hanging_ **

 

**Day 42: After Noon**

Ismene had not reached her position in life by worrying about consequences to other people, and it more than annoyed her that it seemed as though a few days spent with two women had changed her whole philosophy.

She stood on the rise overlooking the valley. Above it was a bright sunny day, and she marveled at the fog below them. It was as though she was staring into some boiling broth. ‘ _Perhaps that’s what it was’_ , she speculated, as if it were her own agitation incarnate. A shout broke through her thoughts and she looked up to see riders emerging from the mists. She and Polybus waited until the horsemen had halted the tired and sweating mounts. The lead scout dismounted and panting, knelt before her husband.

“What have you have to report?” he demanded.

Catching his breath, the scout responded, “Majesty. We’ve captured the third outpost, and again there were only support staff left in the camp. They also surrendered without a fight.”

Polybus mused out loud, “so we have the high ground on three sides, without a loss of a man.”

“Yes, my Liege.”

“Any further word from the scouts on the ground?”

“As best they can tell in this fog, the bulk of Rukcal’s army is still outside the walls, waiting. They seemed confused and disorganized.”

“Any sign at all of a struggle inside the city?”

“We have no way of knowing, sir.”

The King’s mind was already decided, but he put the question to the soldier anyway. “Your recommendation?”

There was no hesitation. “We attack immediately, Liege. Take advantage of this lull or confusion. The men... they are ready.”

Polybus chuckled. “More than ready, I believe.” He waited for one moment of reflection. “Then send word that orders will be coming down soon.”

“Yes, majesty.” Ismene watched as the man remounted and retreated, feeling her inner unease grow.

Wrong. This was all wrong. What was it that was feeding her apprehension? It was as though she was watching her husband take step after step towards a chasm, and some instinct was screaming at her to stop him. She found herself asking, what would Xena and Gabrielle do?

But she was not them. They were clever, talented, dedicated to some Greater Good, and she was... not. Not that Xena and her bard were perfect. Both of them were flawed. But together... that was the true reason she envied them. Somehow their respect and care for each other managed to plaster over the faults and cracks. Even in her short time of observation she could see that they were stronger as a team than as individuals. That was what she wanted. That was what she envied. Was that still possible for her now, after all she had been and done? And the answer came from a response Gabrielle had given to some question about Xena’s past. _“All that matters is what you do today, and intend to do tomorrow.”_ Could she take that step? Would her husband join her on that path?

Rational mind no longer warred with the instinctual. This was wrong for Polybus. This act would change him. And for reasons she could feel more strongly than ever before, she could not allow that to happen.

She cautiously approached the King. “Don’t do this, Husband.”

Lost in his planning, Polybus was startled that she had spoken. “My lady?”

What could she say? Would he accept her intuition? Perhaps there was some logic to her unease. “Isn’t attacking in this fog dangerous?”

“Of course. But not as dangerous as not taking advantage of whatever has caused this break down. Rukcal must have attempted some ill planned guerrilla attack, and now waits for it to come to fruition. This is the kind of fortune you do not turn away from.”

“What if... what if this is not the moment? What if it’s a trap?”

“I’ve interviewed the men in the first camp we took. The cavalry simply charged out in a mass of confusion. Their catapults were burned and there was fire damage throughout. It was not planned.”

She took another step forward. “What if that confusion was due to Xena, or Gabrielle, or even the Thief?”

He seemed puzzled, unable to break the grip of his combat fever. “What if it were?”

“Then this could be a terrible mistake,” she uncharacteristically blurted. “You would be sweeping down there and killing everyone in your path before their plan has succeeded, without knowing what is there. Who is there.” She was directly in front of him, and she searched his eyes for understanding. “We made a pact with them. We might be breaking it now. Please, husband.”

That seemed to strike a chord, but he shrugged it off before she could continue. “I cannot let this chance slip away. Commanders seize the moment.”

Ismene impulsively grasped his hand. “One candlemark, then. That’s all I ask.”

Now his attention was on her and her alone. “That could be the difference between a clean sweep, and a bloody battle. Do you wish to see more of our men die for a chance that we could save the enemy?”

She nodded slowly. “You have the forces to win this battle, regardless of their positioning. All I ask is one candlemark. Please. You have on occasion heeded my advice, and I have never needed you to trust my senses as much before. Please.”

NO! A voice inside him screamed. And yet... For the first time this woman and he were connecting on a plane that he had never known before. At some level she was touching him in a manner he had never experienced, despite their bedroom gymnastics. It stirred a memory of the moment she had first appeared before him. This was what he had imagined then, had wanted and hoped for. This very feeling, like some new life stirring. He closed his eyes, and gave it reign for a moment.

There was no contest. It was too precious to ignore. More important than his desires of conquest. But even as he acknowledged it, a strange shyness crept over him and he turned away before saying quietly, “As you ask.”

She shivered, as though some great pain had passed through her, and giving up all pretense of control, pulled him to her, and felt his arms do the same. ‘ _So...now, Finally. This is what love truly is? How strange. Trust, peace.... Completely new, and somehow it seems as though I’ve always known it.’_

The same thoughts shimmered through her husband’s mind, stained though with the additional worry, ‘ _Have I gambled men’s lives because I love this woman? Risked my army and my domain?”_

_‘Yes. I have. And yet how can I feel no regret or fear?’’_

But now they had to suffer through the consequences of their action. The waiting.

Word was sent to the various commanders, and still the fog did not lift. Time passed, and there was no sign of any movements. Both husband and wife could not help but begin to doubt the wisdom of their inaction, and yet both found themselves consoling the other in their shared responsibility for it, and it was remarkably comforting.

The sound of hoofbeats brought them both to stand, but when the rider appeared, they both were frustrated to see it was the commander Parmenion.

For all his weight and size he seemed pushed by a force greater than his bulk and he bounded from the horse and demanded without any amenities, “What are you waiting on?”

Astounded at his underling’s forwardness, the King replied formally. “We wish to give our agents the opportunity to extract themselves or resolve this.”

“Agents? You mean those fools who were captured? Rukcal executed all of his prisoners two mornings ago. You are poised to strike. Strike!”

Angered by his attitude, Ismene spoke with precision. “Take care to address your King properly, Parmenion.”

The soldier glared at her for a moment, and then turned to bark at Polybus. “This is HER influence isn’t it? You’ve let this woman’s feelings blind you to your duty. Give the order. Strike!”

The King of Corinth voice betrayed none of his rage, but the words were soft and menacing, unlike any Ismene had heard him use before. “And you should also be careful in how you respond to your Queen, Commander.”

It was a moment before Ismene would realise the significance of his reference. She had grown almost used to the embryonic nature of her status as consort. It did not escape the figure to whom they were addressed. “Queen?”

“Yes. There will be a formal ceremony when we return.”

Parmenion shrugged angrily. “None of this matters. That is pageantry. This, here and now, is the future of your rule. You have a responsibility to your men, to your people. How can you stand here and do nothing?”

She saw the doubt in her husband’s face, the urge to loose his forces, and beseeched him with her eyes before grasping his hand tightly, closing her eyes and reciting every prayer she knew, one after another. She could feel the urgency in her husband rise and still she chanted in her mind. How long she stood there, while the ranting of Parmenion increased in force, she did not know. Until she felt a shift in her husband’s grip, and opened her eyes.

There would be a time in the future when she would tell her children’s children of how she opened her eyes to see the flag of truce resolutely emerging from that mist. How the haze swirled about it tentatively revealing the two persons holding it. Striding, together, towards what for all they knew was certain and violent death. Xena in full battle garb, but not holding a sword. Gripping only the reins of her horse trotting behind, and the flag staff. Her hand covered by Gabrielle’s, who was clad in only her simple traveling clothes.

Heroes.

That was what she remembered thinking as they emerged from that supernatural fog, as though they were the only real and substantial things for as far as she could see.

Not because they were more than human. No. All too human, mortal and flawed, but that was what made them heroic.

Parmenion had fallen silent, but she could see that he was grudgingly impressed by the scene. He turned and glared at her husband and said, “YOU... are not worth the time and effort.” And to the astonishment of both, he vanished.

Somehow her husband recovered quickly, and he turned to her matter of factly and said dryly, “It would appear that we were visited by someone other than Parmenion.”

Ismene half sobbed, half laughed, and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the mist as though he were an errant schoolboy.

There was a warning cry from a soldier. “Sir! There’s an army right behind them.” Certainly the shapes of hundreds of men were not entirely lost in the whirl of gray and white haze. The cry caught the ears of Xena, and as Ismene continued to pull her husband down the slope, she waited for Xena to give the command for the army to stop advancing. To her surprise, the warrior looked down to Gabrielle, who threw up her hands and said something that brought a smile to the warrior’s face before she turned and shouted, “Halt.” and then “Stand easy!” At her order the corps stopped and waited. There was only the unnatural mist and an utter stillness

It was then she saw the second moment she would never forget. Perhaps they were somehow unaware that Ismene and Polybus were close enough to see. Perhaps Xena’s focus was solely on the bard, or possibly she didn’t care. But as Xena smiled, Gabrielle brought her finger up to wag it in the warrior’s face, and even as the mist drifted its tendrils about them, instead of biting the offending finger, Xena grasped the hand it was attached to, and gently, ever so gently, brushed her lips against her bard’s knuckles. And Gabrielle took her warrior’s hand and pressed it against her own cheek, and they stood there frozen in time like that, and in Ismene’s memory forever.

_Love imposes impossible tasks_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Though not more than any heart asks_

_And I must know she's a true love of mine_

**_-Scarborough Fair_ **

****

**Day 42: Nightfall**

Polybus was first to break the spell, pulling his wife back, feeling that they were intruding. But Xena’s eyes caught their retreat and followed by a slightly blushing bard, cut them off.

“Hi! Where’re you going?” Gabrielle chirped. “We were just coming to see you.” Ismene hesitated for a moment, shook her head, and then broke from her husband to take Gabrielle into her arms. She pulled back and admonished her, “Was this all part of the plan?”

“Welll...” the bard began.

“Gabrielle had to improvise a bit, but I think you’ll be happy with the result.” Xena handed the treaty over to Polybus, who unrolled it and began reading. After a moment he looked up at her and said precisely, “This is quite a document, and quite an accomplishment.”

Xena prodded Gabrielle forward. “Then you should thank my partner. I just tried to stay out of trouble.”

“I had a similar experience.” The King took his wife’s hand and the four survivors grinned.

Polybus consulted the text of the agreement again. “Two chests of silver?”

Gabrielle explained. “One is the first payment and dependent on you extending your security cordon to include Namea. The other is for new coins.”

“Then we should speak to our troops, and arrange for a formal signing, and then prepare for our march home.”

Ismene noticed that he still spoke with a tinge of disappointment, and objected. “Husband, you are still filled with the energy for battle, your lack of fulfillment fashions your stance. Perhaps if Gabrielle, or Xena addressed your men...?”

Before Xena could refuse, Gabrielle asked, “What would you have us say?”

Ismene thought. “I think you must satisfy them somehow. You must tell them they won. Perhaps you could say...” and her voice toughened and she spoke clearly. “Men of Corinth. Great news! You have won a victory simply by being on the battlefield! The foe has sent word of their surrender, in such terms that all of you will return to a welcome and glory. Whole and victorious, with not a drop of our blood shed, safely returned to your homes and families. Your victory here will...” she faltered, as all three were looking at her with amusement. “What?”

“Thank you, Gabrielle. But I think...” said Polybus, fighting a smile. “...that we will not have need of your services in this area.”

“Agreed,” deadpanned Xena. “I think we can each deal with our own troops. Afterwards we can meet at your campsite to effect the treaty?”

With a nod the two couples separated and Ismene and Polybus began to walk up the hill. He said, “I think we will have to commission a new coin. One to celebrate our new Queen.”

“No!” Ismene demurred. “It would be too much all at once.”

“Then both of us it shall be, one on each side.”

And be called two faced?” Ismene retorted. “No. I would be with you, or nothing.”

Her husband objected. “Two profiles on one side? It’s not done.”

Smiling, Ismene ignored him. “Facing each other, I think.”

Polybus took her hand. “No. Side by side.”

“Always.” She gripped his hand tightly as though her words were a vow. “What about the other side?”

Polybus stopped and kissed her lightly, and said, “What should I care? When I have you.”

Ismene remembered then about a certain wager. “Though I think you owe me the first one that we mint...”

 

_Dear, when thou has finished thy task_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Come to me, my hand for to ask_

_For thou then art a true love of mine_

**_-Scarborough Fair_ **

 

**Day One: Epilogue**

It had been another tedious day of negotiations, with the added pressures of paying off over one thousand men. With ‘her’ crew, including Xena in full warlord glower, there had been no real problems, but Gabrielle was well aware that she was long past her second wind.

The strain had been both tempered and tautened by the goodbyes. Ikaros, like many of the former mercenaries under Rukcal, had handed over his weapons with some relief, and taken his silver to return to his family. Some, the second or third sons, seized this chance to purchase their own farmlands. Others had applied to be part of the new Namean security forces under Polybus. At Xena’s suggestion it was agreed that their training would take place in Corinth to integrate them with the rest of the army.

Gradually the camps had emptied, with strings of chanting soldiers streaming from them until finally the hills surrounding the city were almost unnaturally quiet again, cleared of all but two solitary inhabitants. The grounds were still scarred, the foliage in the hills trampled and flattened for leagues in all directions. But Gabrielle reminded herself, it would recover, and it was not stained with blood and death as it might have been. There was little time to acknowledge that she had something to do with the outcome, because as usual Xena was in a rush to set up a camp for the night. They had been separated during much of the day, and she barely had time to catch up with some small talk as they set up camp and laid out the bedrolls. There were so many things she wanted to discuss and she was in a hurry to get dinner over, relax and talk about, well... everything that was new. But jobs kept getting in the way, and habit threatened to overcome their breakthrough.

Once again she found herself futilely trying to prepare a speech for her warrior while clearing out a firepit, when Xena returned from grooming Argo carrying the last of their saddlebags and noticed the speculative grin on the bard’s face.

“What are you smiling about?”

Her mind still swamped in exhaustion, she was unprepared for any serious discussion, and so Gabrielle blushed and covered. “Autolycus?” she hazarded.

“Uh huh,” Xena said skeptically, setting the bags down. “Did you manage to find a way to pay him in the end?”

Now the grin was genuine. “Yes, he turned down the bars of silver, just as you expected. He said it had ‘no style’”

“So....”

She brushed off her sooty hands. “I very casually asked him to make sure that a certain necklace wasn’t lost when the soldiers began apportioning out the bars.”

Xena rooted about in the bags before asking, “I bet his eyes lit up?”

“No, you know he’s better than that. He only said ‘Oh?’ So I told him that Agathes had stolen this absolutely gorgeous piece of jewelry, and we’d have to find its owner, but it was going to take some doing. But in the meanwhile the necklace was under heavy guard, in a pick proof box attached to the base of the second chest.”

“Pick proof?”

“We couldn’t make it easy or he’d be insulted.”

“That was nice of you.”

“He is our friend, right?”

Xena couldn’t resist prodding the bard further. “But that wasn’t what you were smiling about.”

“Well...” she stooped over, rolling some of the nearby rocks into a horseshoe shape. “There was something he told me.”

“Uh huh?”

Satisfied that the opening for the fire was facing the wind, Gabrielle stood and stretched. “Did you know that Ismene and Polybus had a bet about whether we were... if we... you know?”

“Really?” Xena’s face was bland. “I’m shocked.”

“Demeaning isn’t it?”

“Yup,” she agreed.

“Betting on whether or not someone is in love.”

“They should be ashamed of themselves.”

There was another long pause, before the bard finally broke it. “So? Where’s my money?”

The warrior tried to stare down a smirking bard. “You wish. Our bet was whether or not Ismene or Polybus were in love. They weren’t until now. So I won.”

“No way, you won! Love isn’t made...” At the raised eyebrow, Gabrielle stopped and started again. “You know what I mean. They always had love, they just weren’t aware of it. You can lose love, and I think it takes a lot of work to keep it. But you don’t create it. It’s either there to be found or it isn’t.”

Despite her fatigue, or maybe because of it, Gabrielle found herself speaking with a certain vehemence. And to an empty space, as Xena muttered that she’d better hunt up some dinner, and slipped off to the embankment in search of any game that might have returned once the armies had decamped. With a muttered curse, Gabrielle stomped off to look for firewood.

 

Much later as night fell, so did an awkward silence. Occasionally both warrior and bard had seemed about to say something, and had instead returned to the work of preparing their meal before the sun withdrew, and then quietly but resolutely devouring it. Both were depleted mentally and physically but the bard felt obliged to try to record some of the facts of the preceding days on her scrolls in the dying glow from the horizon. Xena sat cross-legged on the other side of the fire and was preparing to do an armour and weapon inventory. Gabrielle sat with scrolls and quill lying beside her, staring sightlessly into the fire.

‘ _Okay. This ends now._ _I didn’t go through all of this, just to end up right back where we were,’_ the Bard groused to herself. _‘But.... where to begin?’_

Xena had chosen the best site for a camp as usual. High ground, good drainage, natural protection. So it wasn’t coincidental that it was a familiar location to Gabrielle. It was then that she realised how to broach the subject that they were avoiding.

“You know,” she ventured, “this is right about where Rukcal had his tent.” There was a noncommittal grunt as a response.

She thought about that moment. Partly trying to form it into words for her scroll. She pictured herself standing there, holding in all her fear, trying not to be that farmer’s daughter from a small town up north. What had Rukcal thought?

“I wonder if he would have believed that the little girl in front of him was capable of taking his whole army from him.” She spoke casually, as though simply thinking aloud

“He underestimated you.” The words were passed her lips before Xena could stop them, and she grimaced at how she’d been snared into the very conversation she’d wanted to avoid. She lifted her eyes to a bard that was waiting expectantly. The words ‘And so did you.’ were plain, if unspoken.

“No. Gabrielle, I never underestimated you...”

Gabrielle hung her head, and sighed dramatically.

“Dammit, Gabrielle, all right. I did.” The warrior stopped and groaned. “But you know me. I’m used to taking charge. Being in charge! I don’t...”

“Xena. Back there you said you were sorry for not trusting me. I thought we’d reached an understanding. I THOUGHT you were okay with this.”

“We have. I am, Gabrielle....’ And Xena was suddenly staring into her eyes with all of the intensity she usually kept shielded. “I know you’re not a kid anymore. I know we’re a team, I trust you. But I worry, I still want...” she searched for the words.

“You want what’s best for me,” Gabrielle assayed.

“Yes!”

The Bard said quietly, “If you trust me, you have to trust that I know what I want. Or are we back to where you send me away? Leave me somewhere safe?”

Xena turned her face slightly aside. The words came but they were muttered. “You know that hasn’t been an option for a long time. But you know I’ll keep worrying about you. I can’t give my word that I won’t try to protect you...” The warrior hesitated, and finally said, “but I’ll always remember it’s only thanks to you that I still have a word of honour to give.” She finally raised her head to look directly at the bard. “Thank you.”

Gabrielle swallowed, unsure whether she could accept this gratitude, but was caught by the deep sincerity. Xena continued, “But this whole thing with you willing to kill Rukcal...for me. I can’t pretend it didn’t shake me up. I’m afraid you’re...”

Gabrielle walked over and placed a hand on Xena’s arm. “This is all because a lifetime ago I told you I wanted to be like you.”

A nod.

“And it frightens you that it might be happening.”

Silence.

Now we were getting somewhere, Gabrielle thought a little giddily. “Then...”

“Then...?”

“Accept me. You say you need my belief in you, but it’s a two way street.” Gabrielle hesitated and completed the thought. “Until then, you can’t accept... us, Xena.”

The warrior ruminated for a moment, tasting the idea in her mind. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is. Xena. It’s not like I’m not unsure. I have fears. I have all sorts of doubts about where I’m headed...” She cut off the warrior before she could speak. “I know it’s not safe what we do...”

Only to be stopped with the quiet words, “Gabrielle. I wasn’t going to say anything like that. We’ve passed that point.”

“Good.” Her victory on this point disconcerted her for a moment and she tried to reconstruct her thoughts. Struck by inspiration for her scroll, the bard leaned over to grab a quill, and looked about for a place to settle down to write. Xena pulled herself up slightly, took a deep breath, and nodded her head to indicate the spot directly in front of where she was squatting. Gabrielle looked at the warrior quizzically. Xena tapped the ground with her fingertips while maintaining her rigid face. Feigning trepidation, Gabrielle moved in front, but was soon leaning back cozily in her favorite warrior chair, reveling in the contact. She felt the somber mood that had held them lift perceptively.

“We aren’t done, are we?”

“Nope. But we can take a break for a moment. Okay? ” Gabrielle said guilelessly.

There was a relieved nod, which lasted four heartbeats before Gabrielle asked, “Do you think I should be ashamed of what I did the past few days?”

Behind her, Xena snorted. _“_ Thanks for the break.”

“Let me try that again. We were talking about choices and mistakes.” She lifted her index finger. “Who is alive? Who made it through all this? Why aren’t Agathes and Rukcal standing over our bodies right now?”

The warrior shrugged. “Because they were on the wrong side.”

“Nope. I think it was because they made the right decision at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons.”

“And we made the wrong decisions for the right reasons?”

“Exactly!”

Without looking back, she knew there was a rolling of blue eyes. “Gabrielle?” Xena said with some exasperation

“Look, you not killing those men in the courtyard, Ismene trying to stop Polybus at the moment of his victory, they were lost opportunities by the standards Rukcal and Agathes set. But they got us where we wanted to be.” “ _Where I, we, need to be._ ’ she thought, in the comfort of those arms.

“Why do you think that is, Xena?”

She continued without waiting this time.

“Each of us was tested, but only those that had a connection, a connection with another human being, that weren’t out for themselves ... that made a sacrifice against what seemed to be their own best interests, their baser instincts, survived. Agathes, Rukcal did what they thought was best. But you and I and Polybus and Ismene made our choices, what seemed to be the wrong choices, the hard ones for our... mates.” Now her voice was passionate, determined to convince her partner.

“See, Xena? Being together isn’t the problem. Needing each other, it isn’t a weight, it’s our salvation! The one thing, the only thing, I have no doubts about is... us. What we do, what we are...” The bard struggled to keep her voice firm. “You felt it yesterday, I know you did. It’s all so... so big and powerful and it comes from inside of us. The two of us together. I need you to believe that. And I need you to believe in me. Otherwise...”

There was no sound from the warrior, so Gabrielle sighed again and picked up her quill and parchment. She paused with pen poised, and her thoughts again turned melancholic. “Though that doesn’t explain everything. I can’t explain what Salmakis did...”

There was a clearing of the throat behind her. “I think I can.”

Gabrielle waited.

“I found out that Salmakis had been a drill sergeant with Rukcal in the Athenian Guard. He’d trained most of the men. He believed in the... the nobility of war, in the obedience of the common soldier. In following orders. Then on the night of the first assault...”

“When Ikaros deserted?”

“Yes. This is my story, please?”

Gabrielle subsided.

“On that night, the orders were to keep throwing the men against the defenses. Sending out wave after wave from trenches against those bowmen. They were losing 10 men for every one they took out. Salmakis broke every rule he’d believed in when he slit the commander’s throat to stop the slaughter.”

“Oh Xena...”

“So he’d lost what he believed in. “And then...” Even without looking, Gabrielle could somehow hear a smile appear, “... a certain green eyed firebrand showed him a commander with brains and guts who cared as much about the men under her command as her own life.”

Gabrielle coloured slightly. “I wondered why it seemed... But I had a good teacher, that’s all. Someone I really admire. Did I thank her for singing at his pyre?”

A shrug, but the hoarse whisper belied it. “You didn’t need to. I owed him...” and strong arms came about the bard, giving and needing reassurance, “... everything.”

There was a pause that Gabrielle clung to while waiting for Xena to continue. Which she finally did. “So maybe your theory is right. You restored a faith for him. He needed that connection to find his... redemption.” The thought floated between them _,‘and if he could...’_

A breeze from behind them caused a slight chill, and Gabrielle snuggled deeper, and her movement seemed to push the last hidden thought out of the woman behind her, “But I still don’t like... I don’t want our lives... together... to be a constant series of bloody problems and puzzles.”

The bard turned to face the woman who held her, body and soul. “That’s not what it’s about. And I like what we do. I’ll never regret getting on this path. Anyway, you and I love solving problems. And I plan to spend a long time working out the biggest puzzle I know.”

“That would be... me?” Xena said quietly.

Tears pricked at her eyes on hearing the uncertainty in that voice. “Yes, you. I could spend my whole life doing that. So we have time, just as long as we go forward together, okay?” She turned again to watch the last crimson sliver on the edge of the earth’s sky. “You know, this whole thing has been about choices, and whatever you think about it, I’ve made mine. Well,” she temporised. “partly, it’s also been a riddle.”

“Oh no. You know how I feel about those,” Xena teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Gabrielle ignored the expected attempt at diverting her. “You like word games, I know that. Answer this one.” And she carefully enunciated, “Oh tell me what is louder, than is the loudest horn? And tell me what is sharper, than is the sharpest thorn?”

With a small flush of embarrassment, she began tentatively singing the verses.

_Oh tell me what is deeper_

_Than is the deepest sea?_

_And tell me what is longer_

_Than the longest path there be?_

 

“Do I have to answer them as a poem?” Xena grumbled, but a smile twitched about the corners of her mouth.

“You don’t have to answer it all. If you can’t figure it out.”

The warrior accepted the mock challenge and leaned back and thought. When she finally responded it was in a clear contralto, echoing perfectly the notes Gabrielle had sung.

 

_Thunder I know is louder_

_Than is the loudest horn_

_And hunger it is sharper_

_Than is the sharpest thorn_

_Tartarus is deeper_

_Than is the deepest sea._

Xena held the note, before completing in her softest tone.

_And Love surely is longer_

_Than the longest path there be._

Gabrielle sat silent, before shaking her head in delight. “You knew it?”

“Never heard that one before now,” Xena grinned.

“Just another one of the many skills?”

“No, this one I had to learn. But I had a good teacher, that’s all. Someone I really admire. Who knew all about getting around and through walls.”

There was a muffled chuckle and Xena tightened her embrace about the warm body nestled against hers, and waited for that sense of calmness that the golden head resting against her breast now brought to her.

_‘There. Like that . All the walls penetrated and if I surrender..._ _Peace?’_ Xena thought with wonder. “ _Of course, there’s still fear lurking around. Fear of hurting her. Fear of death because it would mean being separated. Being separated from her... not growing old with her... But for this one moment, all of the forces against us mean nothing. I can believe in her, in us, and I’ll gladly accept this one moment.’_

The stars were now out in full, and there was only the intermittent flicker of firelight on their faces. The occasional pop of the wood, the only sounds. Both were staring somewhere off into the distance when Gabrielle said with confidence. “This is going to make a great story.”

Xena smiled. “Yup.”

The bard continued with even more certainty. “And there’ll be more.”

The rejoinder was with just as much certitude. “Yes.”

Gabrielle nodded, and Xena was closing her eyes when...

“Now I just have to figure out what to do with all those dinars you owe me.”

And this time there was a full bodied laugh that rumbled deep in the warrior’s chest, and when the bard turned slightly in her arms in simulated outrage, Xena dropped her shoulder so that their faces were inches away. Surprising them both, she seized the moment, and with the most tender kiss she could ever remember giving or receiving, allowed any further bets, fears or any thoughts at all to dissolve in the sweetness of feeling, of love, and the unanticipated possibility of the future.

 

End

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

One last Ballad for our heroes:

 

**_The Unquiet Grave_ **

_Cold blows the wind to my true love,_

_And gently drops the rain._

_I've never had but one true love,_

_And in green-wood they lie slain._

_I'll do as much for my true love,_

_As any young girl may,_

_I'll sit and mourn all on their grave,_

_For twelve months and a day._

_And when twelve months and a day was passed,_

_The ghost did rise and speak,_

_"why sittest thou all on my grave_

_And will no let me sleep?"_

_"Go fetch me water from the desert,_

_And blood from out the stone,_

_Go fetch me milk from a fair maid's breast_

_That young man never has known."_

_"My breast is cold as clay,_

_My breath is earthly strong,_

_And if you kiss my cold clay lips,_

_Your days they won't be long."_

_"How oft on yonder grave, sweetheart,_

_Where we were want to walk,_

_The fairest flower that e'er I saw_

_Has withered to a stalk."_

_The stalk is wither’d and dry, Sweetheart,_

_And the flower will ne’er return_

_And since I lost my own sweetheart,_

_What can I do is mourn_

_"when will we meet again, sweetheart,_

_When will we meet again?"_

_"when the autumn leaves that fall from the trees_

_Are green and spring up again."_

_Are green and spring up again."_


End file.
